


Promotions Aren't Always A Good Thing

by agib



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (yet), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bruises, Child Abuse, Classic May's Boyfriend Fic, F/M, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Peter Parker, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Peter Parker isn't Spider-Man, Pre-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Whump, Worried May Parker (Spider-Man), Worried Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-08-22 15:14:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 67,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16600400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agib/pseuds/agib
Summary: "When Peter was almost thirteen, May met Carter.""Not too many months after Carter moved in, May got a promotion at work."When May gets a new boyfriend, Peter's okay. When Carter moves in, he can deal. When May gets a promotion so she works days and Carter works nights, Peter finds it harder to deal. When Carter starts abusing him, he begins to feel crushed by the weight of it all.(The classic Peter whump fic where May gets a new boyfriend and he abuses Peter.)





	1. Puzzle Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> So, the major difference in this fic is the fact that Peter isn't Spider-Man, and he's younger (so basically pre-powers).
> 
> Please be warned, this entire fic is mostly surrounding child abuse, it is the epicenter of the entire story so please, please don't read if you think you may be triggered at all by this. <3 Stay safe.
> 
> It's a different take on the IronDad thing, because Peter is Tony's biological kid, but Tony makes the choice not to tell him (yet). ((Will be revealed because... fluff.))
> 
> I hope you enjoy the first chapter, and please leave comments with feedback and anything else, I always appreciate it and nice things like that make me so happy :)
> 
> Enjoy! <3

Everything started when Peter was four, or at least, everything started for Tony, by four, Peter’s life was on track and the billionaire wasn’t even aware of his existence. When Mary and Richard Parker died however, Tony was greeted by an official will. For some reason, at quarter past three on a Friday afternoon, the genius was finding out that the recently deceased scientist he may have slept with awhile back, had apparently given birth to their child. Unbeknownst to him, she had raised the boy with her husband quite happily for four years, not seeing it necessary to even tell Tony about it. He wasn’t as scared as he thought he would have been upon finding out he was a father, more disappointed he hadn’t known until the kid was four.

 

He cancelled the single meeting Pepper had scheduled for him that afternoon and spent the rest of the night researching. The boy, his son, was named Peter. Peter Benjamin Parker, who now lived with his aunt and uncle, May and Ben Parker. It took him another three days to work up the courage to get in contact with them. He didn’t know why, but Tony feared they would dislike the idea of him, the rich playboy that was known for leaving every press event with a different person on his arm. Surprisingly, they were kind and fully understanding of his absence for the first four years, they even went so far as to meet him and explain everything they knew about why Mary didn’t tell him.

 

She had thought he wouldn’t want any involvement, with his work on top of his reputation, plus she was in love with Richard Parker, and it wasn’t practical to even consider raising a kid with the billionaire at that point in time. He surprised himself with how badly he wanted to be in his kid’s life, but May and Ben were fine with it. Of course, they all agreed to wait until Peter had settled into his new life with his aunt and uncle, Tony didn’t want to immediately tell him how they were related, instead opting to be introduced as a friend of May and Ben’s. He waited a year, a painstaking year, filled with getting to know the couple, keeping tabs on how Peter was doing and preparing himself, mentally and emotionally, for meeting the kid. His kid.

 

\----

 

His hands were shaky, and he fisted them in the pocket of his pants after knocking on the door. He stood, biting the inside of his cheek and staring at a stain on the hallway carpet a few feet away. A lock clicked and then May was opening the door with a wide smile.

 

“Hi, Tony, come in, come in.” She shut the door behind him and seemed to notice his rigid stance, “relax, he’s gonna love you, I know it.” Tony blew out a breath and straightened his back more, following her into the kitchen where Ben was sat at the table with a small kid leant over a puzzle. The boy’s feet didn’t even reach the ground, they swung erratically beneath the chair as he rested his chin on one elbow and moved pieces around with his spare hand. Ben looked up and smiled just as kindly as May had.

 

“Tony, nice to see you again,” he waved his hand and stood from the chair, motioning the mechanic to step forward into the room. “Pete, remember I told you we had a friend coming over today?” The boy looked up at his uncle curiously and turned in his chair to look behind him. Tony nearly gaped when he saw the large, doe eyes that twinkled with innocence and a hazel-coffee tint. The kid was small, just like he had been at that age, with a mop of light, brunette curls that contrasted to the darker eyelashes and pink cheeks he had. “Peter, this is Tony Stark…” the small face smiled shyly at him and the billionaire felt his stomach flip. “Tony, meet Peter,” May came to stand beside Ben and they both looked excitedly between the two.

 

“Hey kiddo,” he said lightly, feeling utterly overwhelmed but shockingly okay with it all. He sniffed and tried not to think about how obviously lost he must have looked in that moment.

 

“Hi Mister Stark,” Peter chimed with the smile still on his face, waving slightly and laying his hands on the back of the chair before resting his chin on them. “Do you like trains?” The question threw him for a loop and he blanked for a moment, Peter looking up at him questioningly. He didn’t really have an opinion on trains, he didn’t use them so often considering he had a private jet and a personal driver, but he wasn’t about to explain that to a five-year-old.

 

“Y – yeah, sure do. Why’s that?” He surreptitiously dragged his hands over his hips, wiping away the clamminess he could feel from inside his pockets. Peter, on the other hand, didn’t look phased or nervous at all, but that was most likely due to the fact that he had no clue the man standing in his kitchen was his biological father. He turned back around to the puzzle and tapped the box with a small hand.

 

“It’s a steam train,” he said matter-of-factly. He looked to his lap then up to Ben and May before shuffling back around and peering at Tony. “You wanna help?” Ben flashed him a quick, subtle thumbs-up and he swallowed anxiously before nodding once.

 

“Sure thing kid,” he forced himself to walk forward and only hesitated a moment before slipping slowly into the seat Ben had been in before. The puzzle was about quarter of the way built, all of the corner pieces were in place and majority of the boarders had been sectioned. Several random assortments of four or five pieces were assembled and set off to the side, next to the piles of all the singular ones that had been sorted by colour. Peter pointed with a tiny finger at a pile that consisted of all whiteish, grey and black shaded pieces.

 

“That bit’s the hardest, all the smoky stuff looks the same,” Peter was testing out every single red piece in a small space with a trio of other red ones. Tony nodded thoughtfully and started to connect some of the smoke pieces, heeding the boy’s warning and smiling to himself. Ben and May sat on the couch in the living room, which was part of the large first room of the small apartment, watching the two happily and looking at the father encouragingly. They worked in relative silence, Peter fidgeted a lot but then again, Tony’s leg bounced under the table and he bit his tongue in concentration much like how the child nibbled at the entirety of his lower lip and chewed thoughtfully as he connected pieces together. 

 

After not too long, Peter went to jump from his chair and stood next to Tony, close enough to reach out and touch. “Want some juice Mister Stark?” He kept walking and hopped onto a stool carefully, so he could reach a glass and then wait patiently to see if Tony needed one too.

 

“I’m alright for now, thanks though.” He eyed the boy who poured himself some juice from the fridge and moved slowly as to not spill any. When he sat back down he didn’t immediately start working with the puzzle again, instead he looked across the table at Tony almost analytically.

 

“How did you become friends with my Aunt May and Uncle Ben?” He asked, quirking his head to the side and clutching his juice. He stilled his movement on the puzzle and looked over to the couple, who picked up the silent question he was asking, ‘how do I answer that?’ He genuinely didn’t know how to, it’s not like he could tell the truth because firstly, it would mean talking about Mary, and he didn’t know if Peter would be upset by that, and secondly, he wouldn’t be able to work around the whole ‘I’m your Dad,’ aspect of things.

 

“He knew your Mum Pete, through work, remember all the science?” He winced and hoped that May’s mention of her wouldn’t upset the boy. Peter just nodded and took another careful sip of his juice before speaking again.

 

“I have a friend too,” he said happily, resting the glass beside him and starting to work on the puzzle again. “I met him at school on my first day, his name’s Ned,” he bit on his lip again as he was lost in the intensity of sorting through various shaped pieces.

 

“That’s right, you’re five now, so you started school, how was that?” Peter found the right shaped piece and connected them with a smile. Of course, he knew how old Peter was and when he had started school months ago, he had gotten all the details of his first day from May and Ben when they went out for coffee.

 

“It was good, I like all the science we do.” Tony nodded interestedly and let Peter ramble about all the experiments they did, like mixing corn starch and water or learning about the planets. May and Ben had told him how Peter was already excelling at school, joking that he really did seem to take after Tony with his intellect. When the boy got too invested in the story he was recounting, he would stumble over some words but plough forward gleefully and grin up at him with sparkling eyes. He didn’t even track the time but noticed the sun beginning to lower around the same time Peter was made a grilled cheese, which Tony refused politely when he was offered one too. The time went quickly and so did their progress on the puzzle, before he knew it he was handing Peter the last piece and beaming proudly when he pushed it down into place. The boy laughed freely, and his cheeks went rosy as he smiled right back. “You did all the smoke pieces so fast, we finished in a day!”

 

“That’s a new record, good job Pete,” May called proudly from the living room, her and Ben looking thankfully at Tony. “It’s nearly dinner, you’ll need to wash up in a little while,” she reminded. Ben put a hand on Peter’s shoulder and nodded, impressed, at the completed puzzle.

 

“Tony, can you stay for dinner?” Ben asked while Peter jumped to the ground and looked excitedly to him.

 

“Can you, pleeeeease? Uncle Ben’s making spaghetti!” He bounced on his heels and stared up at him with puppy eyes, holding the edge of the table and rocking back and forth.

 

“If he’s okay with it,” he answered, flashing a glance at the man and raising his eyebrows in question.

 

“I think it would be very nice if Tony stayed for dinner,” Ben smiled to Tony while Peter ran to the bathroom to wash his hands. “You’re getting along nicely,” he said, putting a pot on the stove and starting to prepare the food.

 

“Just like I said they would,” May entered the kitchen and stood at the table, beginning to put the puzzle away. “I knew he’d love you,” she said positively, moving the box into the lounge just as Peter barrelled out from the bathroom and came to stand beside Tony.

 

“You wanna see my room Mister Stark?” He asked eagerly, pointing down past the living room. May nodded encouragingly again as he breathed in the smell of Ben’s cooking and took in the sight of his kid, balancing on his heels and swaying easily.

 

“Sure thing kiddo,” Peter grinned and reached out for his hand willingly, giving a light tug in the right direction and leading him down the hall. His hand was soft and warm, leading him outside his door and pushing it open enthusiastically. It was a relative sized room for the small apartment, there was a single bed and a desk with stationary and completed school work. The decoration was minimal, a few unframed posters and a lamp here or there, the obvious furniture like a dresser and a shelf filled with books.

 

“Do you like it?” Peter asked as he jumped onto the bed and rumpled the covers.

 

“I do, it’s very cool. I like the curtains,” they were dark and littered with little white stars, a small silhouette of a rocket sat at the bottom.

 

“Yeah I do too… Mister Stark?” Peter slid off the bed and touched his sleeve gently, “are you gonna keep visiting?” His voice was small, but it didn’t waver, he looked up at Tony with something that could have been hope in his large eyes. The mechanic bent down so he was closer to Peter’s face level to answer.

 

“Yeah, yeah, I think I will kid, if you don’t mind of course.” Peter beamed widely and nodded his head quickly.

 

“I don’t mind, I really don’t. You’re good at puzzles,” something in Tony relaxed when the boy reacted well to his answer. Just because he hadn’t been there the first four years doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be there for the rest of them, even if it was just as a friend of May and Ben’s at first. Peter led him back to the kitchen, keeping his hand in Tony’s with a fixed grin on his small face. They all sat at the table for dinner and he watched Peter’s curls bouncing as he spoke frantically about anything and everything that interested him.

 

\----

 

In the coming years Tony would often visit, he brought new puzzles with him until the kid grew out of them, occasionally when Peter got a good grade or won an award in school he would bring the boy something more, like a microscope or even once, when the kid was bumped to the extension science class, he made a compact projector. He demonstrated it for the boy, switching off the lights and putting the small device in his outstretched hands, pressing the button to turn it on. An L.E.D display lit up the ceiling, projecting galaxies and solar systems hung against a colourful, starry background. It reflected in Peter’s hazel orbs and when he shifted the device in his hands and the image moved with him, his face broke out into a massive, awe-struck and enraptured grin.

 

“Mister Stark…” he had whispered quietly, finally looking down from the ceiling to stare at the mechanic. “This is – this is amazing, I – thank you, thank you so much.” Peter had hugged him for the first time that day, wrapping his arms around his neck and cuddling close to him gratefully, still clutching the projector in his hand while May and Ben watched them, overjoyed.

 

By the time Peter was around six or seven, he really began to present as a genius. He was in the academic decathlon team and top of most his classes, he was beginning to tinker at home with random bits and pieces he would harvest from school or his walk home and sometimes even what he could find when he took apart old electronics. That was around the time Peter started visiting Tony’s workshop and labs, tinkering and experimenting to his hearts content and building things with the mechanic by his side. May and Ben were glad Peter was growing closer to his real Dad, but they were starting to ask Tony when he would address that with the kid. Truth be told, he was scared of changing the relationship or unintentionally making Peter upset in any way. Moreover, there would be the issue of press and whether the kid wanted to keep living with May and Ben or not. Telling Peter then would have just changed too many things, and it was daunting for Tony to even imagine that conversation.

 

Things stayed the way they were for a while, then life got complicated and Afghanistan happened. It was hard, for Tony of course, but it also had an impact on Peter who had gotten so much closer to him since they had met. It was a long three months, there were tears, May and Ben had to console him and make assurances that Tony would be back, and eventually he was. Peter wasn’t old enough to fully understand the haunted look in his eyes afterward, he wasn’t experienced enough to get why Tony flinched sometimes or found physical contact more difficult than before. The boy couldn’t see the sleepless nights and the hoards of coffee that came along with working for days in the workshop without break. They still visited each other, Peter coming to the labs and watching the mechanic test new repulsors and even trying to learn about how the arc reactor worked. Tony came over to the apartment the same amount as before and everything got back on track, starting to go back to normal. 

 

That all came tumbling to a halt when Ben died.

 

Peter was ten, Tony was at an overseas conference when it happened. Ben had gone out to pick up something for dinner, there was a robbery, it was solely wrong place, wrong time. May took it hard, Peter tried to deal but he wasn’t finding it easy in any way. The second lost father figure and now it was only Tony left, but Peter would never say that. The apartment felt emptier, but Tony helped, he brought food when May couldn’t cook, he helped Peter with maths homework where Ben usually would have, he helped them fight through when it felt like too much. Even when he had the battle of New York to deal with, they were there for each other. Peter helped Tony and Tony helped Peter, that’s how it was, even if they didn’t know how much they meant to each other, the company and knowledge that someone was always there meant the world.

 

May worked hard at her job, Tony finally managed to convince Peter to drop the ‘Mister Stark,’ for just Tony. Peter was growing up, almost every day he worked in the labs or lounged around the apartment with the mechanic, and Tony was unbelievably grateful that he was there to see it. May still thought he should tell Peter about how he really knew Mary, but she didn’t press him when he said it was too soon, because the kid was still so young.

 

When Peter was almost thirteen, May met Carter.

 

Peter was fine, he honestly was. Mad had held off telling him until about the third or fourth date, only because she wasn’t sure if it would be a serious thing or not, and the fact that she was anxious about what his reaction would be. Of course, being the amazing kid Peter was, he took it well, he was happy, purely because his Aunt was. He fed Tony the information he got from May and soon enough it was Peter’s thirteenth birthday. The boy suggested May invite Carter over that night so himself and Tony could meet him.

 

Peter got the morning and afternoon with just May and Tony, he was happy. He was content. He was carefree.

 

When there was a knock at the door May got up to open it, she smiled, received a peck on the lips before she ushered the man into the apartment. Tony sat next to Peter on the couch, his arm draped just behind them and watching the boy crack into one of his many gifts, a new Stark Phone. Peter looked up when the new person stepped into the room, taking in his appearance. The first thing he noticed were the eyes, a piercing sage green that contrasted to the darker blonde hair that was well groomed. He was clean shaven and dressed smart-casual, more on the formal side much like May as opposed to Tony who was dressed in a Black Sabbath shirt with old, torn and grease stained jeans he had worn earlier in the day at the workshop with Peter. The man was taller than Tony, but not by much, he wasn’t unattractive but didn’t stand out in any particular way, he was normal, average, flew under the radar. Peter was fine knowing the man could make May happy.

 

“Tony, Peter, this is Carter,” she turned to the man and gestured to the couch where the two were sitting. “Carter, meet Tony, a close friend, and Peter, my nephew.” Tony and Carter shook hands, Peter did too, surprised by the incredibly firm grip, it was bordering on painful, but he figured the man was nervous. It was hard to think that the cool exterior and relaxed body positioning of the man could be hiding any trace of anxiousness. Tony wondered to himself if Carter felt anything like he had the first time meeting Peter.

 

They had Thai for dinner, May and Carter went to pick it up together. They ate with simple conversation, Tony asked about Carter’s work, Peter answered quite a few questions about school. At some point, Carter asked if he played any sports and he almost felt shy to admit he only did the academic decathlon as an extracurricular. It was probably his imagination, but he thought Carter frowned a little when he said that. It wasn’t long until they seemed to run out of things to talk about, Carter didn’t seem very engaged when Tony or Peter spoke about any of their projects, but he couldn’t expect everyone to enjoy the same things as him. When they had finished eating, May offered to do the dishes because it was Peter’s birthday, but he was fine doing them, Tony helped and they both chose not to notice how Carter stayed seated.

 

“Well?” May looked to Peter nervously after Carter had left, Tony finished drying his hands and came to sit next to him on the couch.

 

“He seemed nice, as long as he makes you happy, then I am too Aunt May.” She smiled and kissed his head, promising him leftover cake as a treat the next day. She said goodnight to Tony and let him have some time to say goodbye to Peter.

 

“Night kiddo, hope you had a good time today,” Peter smiled warmly and nodded his head.

 

“I really did, thank you for everything.” Tony had a small smirk on his face and he rummaged dramatically in his pocket for a moment.

 

“Okay, one more, I swear,” he promised, pulling a box the size of his palm from his pocket and handing it to Peter with a mockingly guilty look on his face. “I know, you don’t like heaps of presents because you feel spoilt, but I want you to have this.” He unwrapped the small ribbon and opened the lid of the box carefully, puffing out a small breath and containing his excitement. Inside sat a watch, it was a coal black colour and the display lit up with a blue tint, similar to the reactor, the digital numbers flashed up at him. The strap was smaller than most watches, almost as if it were designed just for the slender and scrawny wrists that Peter had, not yet fully grown into his own body.

 

“Tony…” He breathed out softly, flipping it over in his hands and letting his mouth drop in amazement at the design on the back. The metal had been expertly etched into, and a small, but meaningful, puzzle piece silhouette was carved. “This is – it – it’s amazing…” He settled it onto his wrist after running a gentle finger over the outline of the puzzle piece and clipped the buckle, so it laid on his arm securely. Peter’s gaze lingered to admire the sleek but simplistic design of the watch, before he looked up. “Thank you, I honestly – I can’t even say it enough, thank you –” Tony rested an arm around his shoulders carefully, always giving the boy time to pull away on the rare occasion he initiated contact.

 

“Don’t mention it, seriously. Designing that thing was relaxing, tinkering around in the workshop is basically my job you know.” The mechanic smiled and felt Peter curl a soft finger around the hand he had hanging over his shoulder.

 

“I love it,” he said, almost like a promise.

 

“Sure kid, see you round the workshop next week,” he took a moment to ruffle Peter’s curls before dropping his arm and opening the door, turning back to catch and return the grateful smile the boy, his son, gave him.

 

\----

 

The next year blurred by, May and Carter’s relationship was progressing, the man was spending more time at the apartment. He had his own drawer in May’s bedroom by March, he came over almost every night for dinner, sometimes staying till the next morning. By June, May was sitting Peter down on the couch and asking him how he felt about Carter moving in, promising it was just to try out, if it was too much or uncomfortable at any point for either of them, things could go back very easily.

 

“I just want to make sure you actually like him too, you know? That this doesn’t seem too soon for you, or making you feel upset at all.” Peter smiled, shaking his head and bumping his Aunt’s shoulder.

 

“Not at all May, he makes you happy and I’m really glad you found someone. I’m sure him moving in means I’ll get to know him better…” He trailed off and bit the inside of his cheek in thought.

 

“But… What else? You look like there’s more you want to say.” She was watching him closely, trying to make sure that Peter was completely comfortable with the idea of someone else in the apartment with them.

 

“Just… will this mean Tony won’t come over as much? Will I still be able to go to the workshop after school sometimes?” May’s face softened, and she looked relieved when that was all Peter wanted to say.

 

“Of course not, you and Tony’s workshop time is untouchable, and I’m sure Carter won’t mind him coming over like normal. If it didn’t bother him before then it shouldn’t now.” She pulled her nephew in for a hug and kissed his head sweetly, tapping his watch and smiling knowingly. “You and Tony have a special relationship, and just because Carter’s moving in doesn’t mean he’s going to stop being your father-figure.” Peter blushed slightly and groaned when May used the phrase he had let slip one night a couple years ago, when she had asked him seriously how he felt about Tony.

 

“You didn’t tell him I said that, did you?” May shook her head reassuringly and brushed a curl from his forehead lovingly. She thought it was sweet and endearing how much the two cared about each other, regardless of how Tony had walls and Peter was too shy to cling on as much as she knew he wanted to.

 

“No, but I still think you should find the courage to tell him yourself, I’m certain Tony would love to hear that.” Peter grumbled a ‘maybe,’ knowing he probably wouldn’t any time soon.

 

Carter moved in and things did change. On weekends, when him and May were both home all day, they had more time to get to know each other better. Peter found it a challenge to keep up a conversation with the man, they were so different, and he sensed some disapproval whenever he tried to talk about anything science or mechanics related. Surprisingly, the mention of Tony or anything Tony had gifted him was a sore subject point as well, there wasn’t hostility in the beginning, just general disinterest that May didn’t pick up on. The few times May was out of the room or leaving them alone, and Peter mentioned any of those things, the dislike was much clearer. He remembers, at one point, May had been in the bathroom when Carter asked him what time it was. When he glanced at his watch and read out the numbers, the man narrowed his eyes.

 

“Where’d you get that from, looks pretty expensive for you to be wearing?” Peter figured the comment hadn’t meant to be insulting, and he jumped on the fact that Carter was actually starting a conversation himself, instead of sitting silently and focusing on talking to May.

 

“Actually… it – it was a gift, from Tony,” he answered tediously, making sure to take caution in talking about Tony with Carter. “He got it for my thirteenth birthday, I really like it becau –” Carter cut him off and curled his lip in distaste.

 

“Yeah, yeah Stark got it for you, what a surprise.” He waved his hand and rolled his eyes, slouching more on the couch and changing the channel rudely. Peter shut his mouth abruptly and looked at the ground, ignoring the sting that the words had carried with them. When May came back he excused himself and lied about having homework he needed to do, removing himself from the situation and briefly catching the self-satisfied look that hung on Carters face when he dropped an arm over May’s shoulders and fiddled with the channels, not bothering to wish Peter goodnight like his Aunt.

 

He learnt not to bring up Tony unless he wanted to deal with more comments like that, but it slowly spread into other areas of conversation and soon anytime Peter spoke he was getting that reaction from the man. He began to find more and more excuses to hole up in his room during the weekends, avoiding Carter and just letting him and May have their own time together. The main thing that worried Peter about the behaviour was the fact that it never occurred when May or Tony were around. The man always acted normally toward Peter when they were present, but the boy still noticed the small things, like his aversion to actively starting a conversation, how he frowned or sneered when Peter spoke and nobody was looking. It was bearable, he knew that not everyone enjoyed his company, and that was just life. Carter made May happy, so Peter was fine to deal with the occasional insulting comment or irritated looks and general dislike. Tony and him still got time with each other, and he found the slot of time after school in the workshop with him to be even more gratifying when he compared it to coming home to Carter’s insulting words.

 

Not too many months after Carter moved in, May got a promotion at work. Her schedule completely flipped, and she discussed the changes over dinner with the two. They sat at the table eating, Peter opted not to instigate any conversation and avoided Carter’s glares when he chimed in. May explained she now needed to work day shifts Monday through Friday, which would mean she was on the opposite schedule to Carter, because he worked nights. She mentioned how that would mean Carter and Peter would get a lot more time without her, especially over break. He couldn’t explain it, but the conversation made something heavy and worrying settle in Peter’s chest, almost like dread. He didn’t want more time with Carter, if he had to choose, he would rather less time, but he pushed everything down and smiled, reminding himself how happy May was. She was so content with Carter in her life that she had more time to put into work and got a promotion, he couldn’t complain, it wasn’t fair on her and the comments the man made weren’t that big of a deal to him. They just didn’t get along, that was all, it wasn’t as if he was being verbally abused or anything, they just didn’t have the same natured relationship that him and Tony did, and Peter couldn’t compare because that wasn’t right. Everything was fine, he knew it was just hard adjusting to new changes, everything was going to even out soon and the anxious feeling in his chest would dissipate, he was sure.

 

It was difficult at first, Peter spent more time in his room, he didn’t talk unless he absolutely had to, Carter was cold towards him for the period of time they were alone in the house together. Despite May leaving him money for lunch and talking to Carter about picking him up from school, neither of those things worked out. When he finished getting ready for school Carter had taken the money and said something about ‘needing coffee to put up with your shit,’ and he refused to pick Peter up. Of course, the man told May he was picking him up, but he told Peter to walk home himself and get the exercise, especially considering he didn’t do any sports. He told himself that everything was fine, he walked to school each morning and he would just get used to walking home too, granted, that was a bit more of a challenge on an empty stomach each day, but he was dealing. He was fine with putting up with it, because the smile on May’s face always made him feel better, even if they weren’t getting as much one on one time as before Carter, she was happy.

 

Peter dealt, but things began to accelerate and the weight in his chest was getting heavier. Carter had escalated his hatred for the boy, when they were in the same room he would tell him to leave, if they walked past each other in the hall or in the kitchen he would knock his shoulder, not in a friendly way either. When things really got bad was a Thursday morning, May was at work already, Peter was getting ready for school and Carter had a stressful time at work the night before, so his tolerance was barely existent. He had just put the bread in the toaster, he was slipping books into his bag and sneaking an apple in there too when he saw the money was, yet again, gone. A folder of his science notes fell from his grasp and clattered to the floor, from the living room Peter could hear Carter growl angrily and switch the television off. He swallowed against the rapidly forming lump in his throat and picked up the binder, clutching it to his chest as he heard footsteps approaching. He didn’t understand why he felt a burst of fear running through him, it wasn’t like Carter had hurt him that much before, just a frustrated and mildly purposeful bump of the shoulder here or there when nobody else was around. He stormed into the kitchen and glared at Peter with resentment in his eyes.

 

“Don’t you know how to keep it down? I was trying to watch something,” he said angrily, stepping closer and clenching his jaw. Peter was ready to stutter out an apology when Carter moved into his personal space, so close he could smell the coffee on his breath that had been bought with his lunch money. “You’re a mannerless brat, you know that?” Then, because apparently, he had no common sense or self-preservation, Peter’s eyes were darting to his bag where the apple was lying amongst his stationary. Carter’s eyes narrowed darkly, and he shoved his hand into the bag, almost snapping a ruler as he ripped the food back out. He hurled it across the room and it flew across the counter, hitting the floor and bruising darkly. “If you can’t be quiet, you don’t need that, and while you’re at it, text Stark and tell him you aren’t going out to the workshop tonight.”

 

There was that feeling again, the lump in his throat and the pressure on his chest growing rapidly with every one of Carter’s punishments.

 

“I – I’m sorry…” He could feel his face paling in fright, but his mouth still pushed out the words, “M – May said I could go to the w – workshop this afternoon.” Carter’s narrowed eyes blazed with an anger Peter hadn’t seen before, then everything was happening too fast for him to easily process. There were hands on his shoulders and they shoved with intent, forcing Peter backward so his side slammed into the edge of the table and he stumbled. He clutched a hand over his side, feeling the twinges of pain running through him as his eyes widened in horror.

 

Carter’s expression morphed into one of satisfaction before he was turning on his heel and storming back to the lounge, leaving Peter standing in the kitchen with his eyes burning. He threw his bag over his shoulder and left early, ditching the toast which had long since popped from the toaster and leaving the bruised apple, forgotten on the floor. 

 

The pain faded and wasn’t as sharp, it was just an aggressive ‘bump,’ but he could feel the mark that must have formed when he touched his side gingerly. By the time he was at school and walking to class with Ned, he had run the incident over in his head hundreds of times.

 

“Where’s your lunch?” Ned asked, frowning slightly when Peter admitted he left it at home. “Dude, you gotta stop forgetting food when we have gym class, you’ll get head spins.” He rolled his eyes at his friend and tried not to think about what had happened that morning. “Split my sandwich?” Peter smiled and accepted, thanking Ned and telling himself he was lucky to have a friend like him. 

 

Despite the food he got, he was unfocused in English and his teacher warned him to stay attentive, he shook away the distractions and tried to concentrate on the assignments he was given in class. Just before gym, he was changing and caught a glimpse of his hip, the area was reddish and purple in some places, the first layer or two of skin had torn, but there wasn’t any blood. He blew out a breath and tugged his top on, pulling the fabric further down as if to make sure it wouldn’t ride up. He took a moment to text Tony he couldn’t come over to the workshop that afternoon, biting his lip and reasoning that there was no good reason for him to be that upset about it.

 

While he walked home, his stomach growled relentlessly and he thought about how much he would rather be in Tony’s car on the way to the workshop right now. When he got home, Carter was waiting for him, the bruised apple and cold toast sitting on the table next to where he stood with folded arms.

 

“Were you ever taught to clean up after yourself?” He looked at the floor and didn’t answer, avoiding eye contact and choosing to picture the half-finished project that him and Tony had planned to work on that afternoon. “Sort it out now, and if you even breathe a word to May when she get’s home, you can skip out on breakfast tomorrow as well.” He left to let Peter clean up, ignoring him when he crossed the living room to hide away in his room. When May got home, and Carter left, he went to bed early, barely sleeping all night as he was kept up by the weight inside him. Maybe the cold looks had gone too far, maybe things were progressing to a point where he should say something… but he couldn’t, not to May who would never forgive herself, who would be reluctant to dating again, who would have to watch the better food brands slowly disappear from the kitchen as they were left to only one pay check. He rolled over in bed and flipped the pillow to the other side, staring at the bedroom wall and trying to force himself to sleep.

 

Eventually, he gave up on staring and swung his legs out of bed, wincing when the bruise at his side stretched slightly as he stood. After fumbling in the dark for a moment, he pulled out the compact projector Tony had given him. It lit up the ceiling and he climbed back into bed, looking up at the galaxies, letting the flickering of the stars relax him more and more until his eyes were finally fluttering shut.

 

Things only really got worse from then on, Carter became more hostile, more aggressive, taking away the time Peter got with Tony as punishment and forcing him to skip out on meals more often than not. The things he was getting in trouble for were getting smaller and smaller until coming out of his bedroom resulted in a remote thrown across the room at him. When break started, things progressed even more, Peter couldn’t spend his time at school to avoid the man, and had to get through each day at home alone with Carter, constantly holding out for the weekend when May was home and he got some semblance of feeling safe.

 

\----

 

On his fourteenth birthday, he got a whole day at the workshop with Tony, it was perfect, he was overjoyed and came home in a good mood, inviting Tony in for cake with May and Carter. He tried to tone down his happiness when he stepped into the apartment, lessening the attention he would draw and keeping quieter. They had the cake, then Tony went home, May said night and Peter had his shower and got ready for bed, feeling overall content with his day.

 

His birthday wasn’t over yet and his aunt was asleep by now. She was impervious to what Carter could do to Peter as she slept.

 

He was sat at his desk playing around with some designs for a project him and Tony had started that day when there was a knock at his door.

 

“Yeah?” He turned in his chair and stood up abruptly when Carter walked into the room with a dangerous expression. “H – hi…” He started, shuffling back when the man advanced on him.

 

“You didn’t ask if you could invite Stark inside,” he said, keeping his voice low to not wake May, but not bothering to hide the anger in his tone. “You’re selfish and spoilt, he only makes it worse,” Carter jabbed a finger to his chest and bared his teeth in a snarl.

 

“I – I’m sorry, I – I just –”

 

“No, you don’t get to make excuses right now, you can shut it,” even if he wasn’t yelling, the fury was still evident, Peter couldn’t help how he shrunk away from the man and moved back so he was pressed against his desk. If anything, the submissive stance only encouraged Carter more, because he mimicked and stepped forward to grip Peter’s wrist tightly, his nails digging in roughly and pulling a terrified intake of breath from the boy. “You spend too much time with him, you’re too pampered, and you need to learn how to stop being such a spoilt brat,” his grip moved higher until it was squeezed around the watch that Peter had worn every day since Tony gave it to him.

 

“N – no wait don’t –” He was too late, the screen cracked under the pressure and the buckle ripped when Carter yanked it harshly. He let it fall to the ground but kept his hand over Peter’s slender arm, clenching his fist until the boy felt his bone creaking in distress. “Ah, ow, ow, p – please stop!” He raised his voice slightly out of pure panic, the cold realisation that Carter could actually break his wrist in that moment crept through him icily.

 

“Shut up,” he slammed his opposite hand over Peter’s mouth and it forced him back so roughly that he tumbled over the desk until the back of his head hit the wall behind it. He was splayed over the wood, his head shoved back against the wall while the unrelenting force on his arm tugged it forward as nails pierced his skin. “If you wake up May I will make this so much worse for the both of you,” tears were prickling in Peter’s eyes now and they began to spill down his cheeks as his breathing picked up. He whimpered, and Carter pulled away, letting him fall off the desk and land on the floor clutching at his arm which had a hand shaped bruise beginning to form around the crescent indents that were beaded with small smears of blood. “Anytime you want to spend time with Stark, you can expect more of that,” Carter spat, leaving Peter on the floor of his room, tears streaming down his face.

 

He sat unmoving for a long time, only reaching out a shaky hand to hold the ruined watch to his cheek and curl up against the foot of his bed to sob quietly. How had things gotten this much worse? What did the man have against him and Tony? He thought back to exactly a year ago, his thirteenth birthday when he had first met Carter. He remembered how glad he was that May found somebody, now he was just filled with fear, maybe Carter was right, maybe he was being selfish. Peter looked down at the angry fingernail marks on his arm and worried at his lower lip. What if he was just spoilt and had gotten used to it? Maybe he should just accept that walking home and staying in his room all the time was just the new normal. 

 

He couldn’t say anything. He didn’t have the heart to take away what was making May happy, but he knew it would be hard having to spend less time with Tony. If he told anybody and Carter found out, there was potential he could lash out not just at him, but at the people he cared about, May and Tony. He would never forgive himself if they were hurt because of his inability to deal with everything. Trapped, he felt trapped under the intensity of the weight inside him and the size of the lump in his throat, but he would put up with it, so May could stay happy. He didn’t want her to go back to grieving the absence of Ben or worrying about working overtime to support herself and Peter. With Carter working, May was less stressed over money and it took weight off her, Peter would hold the weight for her, so she could be happy, but he knew not having time with Tony would be extra weight on him.

 

Peter spent the night of his fourteenth birthday silently crying on the floor of his room, hugging the destroyed watch to his heart but telling himself it would be bearable. It was all doable if he could see the smile on May’s face and know that he was the one keeping it there. It would feel okay when he could hear her opening the fridge in the mornings and actually seeing the benefit of two incomes instead of just one.

 

A small part of him wishes that Carter wasn’t so hateful, that he was actually a good guy and could make May happy while also letting Peter near the fridge when he was hungry. The rest of him just wanted the man to never have entered his life, but that must have been the selfish part of him, because without Carter, May wouldn’t smile as often as she had been, the fridge and pantry wouldn’t be as stocked as they are now, and the so obvious lack of a third person living in the apartment wouldn’t stand out like a sore thumb.


	2. Locks and Empty Coffee Cups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony manages to visit Peter a few times, and he begins to pick up on some things.
> 
> Carter's leaving galaxy patterns behind in a way that doesn't even remotely resemble how Tony once made him the galaxy projector.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is out early, because I had my science exam today and decided to be productive when I got home, (and also because I reallylikewritingthisfic!).
> 
> Again, please, please heed the tags and know that child abuse is a prevalent theme and is mentioned/described vividly multiple times, please don't read if there's a possibility of this impacting you detrimentally <3
> 
> Loved, loved, loved all your lovely comments from last chapter, so keep bringing them on!
> 
> Enjoy!

It had been almost an entire month since Tony had seen Peter, the boy hadn’t been able to come to the workshop and any time he went over to the apartment and Carter answered the door he explained that Peter was out for the night. He tried not to worry, he tried not to miss the kid, he was a teenager after all, it was normal for him to be out so much, but it seemed so all of a sudden, and he knew Peter wasn’t the biggest socialiser, except when it came to Ned of course. Eventually, he tried on the weekend, and luckily May answered, looking a bit more tired than usual but still happy to see him.

 

“Hey Tony, it’s been awhile,” she said with a smile, letting him inside. He could see Carter sat on the couch and the man took a beat before his face pulled into a welcoming expression, he must have been tired too because for a moment Tony thought the lowered eyebrows had been meant for him.

 

“Hey May, nice to see you again,” he returned the smile. May gave him a quick hug and from the angle neither her or Tony could see when Carter’s face dropped to a scowl and his teeth ground together as he thought of Peter. “Where’s the kid? Its almost been a month since I’ve seen him.” May’s smile lessened slightly, and she looked almost empathetic when she dropped the hand that had been resting on Tony’s shoulder and nodded her head to the hallway.

 

“He’s just down in his room, but he’s been feeling a little under the weather recently.” Her eyes crinkled in concern and Tony was already mirroring the emotion when she suggested, “you should go in and say hi.” She lowered her voice a touch and murmured to him, “I think he’s missed you.” A small smile tugged at his lips again as he walked past the couch, waving a brief hello to Carter before heading down the hall and opening the door to Peter’s room.

 

His entrance must have surprised Peter because when he walked into the room, the boy was standing beside his desk with a frightened look on his face, backing up when the door opened, before fully registering who it was. His body positioning immediately loosened, his shoulders unhunched and an immensely relieved smile broke out over his face that helped to melt away the fear that had registered on his face into something warmer.

 

“Tony,” Peter whispered, the smile across his face made the mechanic’s stomach flip in fondness. He sat on the bed and the boy was quick to follow. They were both silent for a moment, Tony watched Peter as he tugged the sleeves of his hoodie further down, so they swallowed his hands. Almost everything he wore made him look smaller. “H – hey, hi,” he said quietly, looking up from his lap so Tony could meet his hazel eyes.

 

“Hey kiddo, long time no see, what’s it been, a month?” He spoke softly, matching Peter’s volume and assuming he had a reason to be talking so faintly, he expected the boy had a headache or sore throat, and that’s what May had meant when she said he was unwell. Something in Peter’s eyes looked sad when Tony mentioned how long it had been, but he fixed a smaller smile on his face and nodded regardless.

 

The genius watched Peter closely, taking him in. He somehow looked even smaller than usual, almost like he had lost weight, there were dark bags under his eyes and his hair wasn’t done, so the curls hadn’t been combed or gelled down as normal. Tony had always thought to himself that the wilder they were, the cuter they looked, but Peter was tired, drained of his usual enthusiasm, exhausted, and so unlike himself. He felt concern in his heart but chalked everything up to how May said he was feeling sick. “How’s it been, May said you haven’t been feeling too well?” There was probably a bug going around, he would have made a joke about mono, but the bags were too defined to be a joke.

 

The sad look flashed back in Peter’s eyes, Tony didn’t understand that it was really guilt, clawing around inside the boy. He didn’t want to lie to May about not feeling well, it wasn’t strictly an untrue thing to say, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. Because the truth was so much worse, he couldn’t look into the eyes of the people he loved and admit that he felt as if he were fraying at the edges from all the bruises he had to hide. That he wasn’t sleeping because he knew that the next day would only let things progress even more, that he was so absolutely consumed by the constant fear and unease that he could feel it taking a physical toll on his body. 

 

He couldn’t tell the truth, he couldn’t put that weight back on May, he couldn’t risk Carter snapping at anyone other than him, so he bit his tongue and lied through a smile, hoping neither of them would notice. He didn’t like the guilt that came with lying to May, and it was only amounting now that the lies was spreading to Tony, because he never lied to Tony. Before Carter, when May had an exhausting day at work and Peter wanted to talk through his problems, he would hold them away from her and relax with Tony. He was his rock, he was always there for Peter, and they had both lost count of the amount of times they had sat in the workshop with greasy hands, laughter bouncing from their lips like the brightest of stars.

 

But to Peter, those stars were out now. They had died when Carter had first shoved him into the table and stolen away the time he once got with Tony. He was a black hole floating through the apartment he once felt safe in, but now, every slammed door blown by the wind, every sudden movement of a shadow in the corner of his vision, every sound he didn’t immediately recognise to be May, sent him into a full-bodied flinch. But then again, sometimes he just let his mind wander to the time he used to have in the workshop as a makeshift coping mechanism, who could blame him for escaping the aggressive blows with memories of him and Tony.

 

Remembering those times in contrast to thinking about how heartbroken he felt now was what made the lump in his throat swell until Peter’s mind was screaming, making him too afraid to speak in fear of his dam breaking. But, just like he had been doing since the night of his fourteenth birthday when he cried on the floor and held the broken remains of Tony’s gift against his face, he bit the inside of his cheek and forced the words out in a hopefully convincing tone.

 

“Y – yeah, I’m fine.” It apparently wasn’t enough for Tony, who knew him too well, because he looked concerned and reached out to feel Peter’s forehead to test the temperature. Then, because it had been so long, and he had no restraint, Peter let out an involuntary breath, closed his eyes and leaned into the touch like he’d been starved of them, which he had. To his credit, Tony kept his hand pressed against Peter’s forehead for much longer than the time it would have taken to get his temperature.

 

“Hey, kid seriously, you feeling okay?” For just one more perfect second, Peter basked in the warmth of the careful touch and relished in the pure, unadulterated concern which was present in Tony’s voice. Then he forced himself to snap his eyes open and lean back quickly, stammering through an incredibly fake smile to appease the voice in his head that worried about Tony growing too suspicious.

 

“I’m g – good, just a bit o – overtired and stressed… about school I think.” He looked up, shot Tony a reassuring smile and tried not to cry when he saw how genuinely caring the expression on his face was. Neither of them said anything for a while, just stayed seated on the edge of Peter’s bed. It was strange, he thought, how much safer he felt with the man beside him, he was so much more relaxed then he had been in the past month, he was almost able to forget that Carter was sat in the living room, probably stewing. Eventually though, Tony stood up to go.

 

“Okay squirt, I think I need to leave you to get some rest, alright? Doesn’t look like you’ve been getting much sleep recently.” Tony had neared the door when the icy feeling of fright engulfed Peter again and it was probably plastered all across his face.

 

“W – wait, Tony.” His mouth moved on its own accord, he spoke louder than he meant to and he reached his hand out briefly before he dropped it and looked to his lap, curling into himself again. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was terrified of the one string that kept him taught leaving, so he was left with only May for protection. If Tony left, the only thing stopping Carter’s wrath was May hearing them, and she had been going to bed earlier so getting up early for work wasn’t as hard. There had been so many nights, too many, where May would say goodnight and not even an hour later Peter was locked in the bathroom wiping away the tears, icing his bruises and praying they faded away before anybody noticed them.

 

“Yeah, what’s up kiddo?” Tony halted where he was about to reach the door, and in Peter’s heart he knew that if he wanted this to stop, now was the time to ask for help. The voice at the back of his head was screaming once more, bashing against his skull, begging him to force out just one word, ‘help.’ But he couldn’t, not when May was smiling more than she was sighing, not when the apartment was less empty than it had ever been after Ben’s death. He stammered and back tracked, not even knowing what he wanted to say exactly, but that wasn’t true, and he knew it. The truth danced on the tip of his tongue, but he could never say anything.

 

“I – I uh, j – just… sorry, just h – have a safe drive home I guess.” Then, he swallowed against the lump in his throat and managed a very weak smile, but Tony was even more worried now. He moved away from the door, leant back over Peter and cupped his cheek gently, concern etched deep into his face.

 

“For real Pete, you know you can tell me anything that’s on your mind,” he paused before saying the next words in a lower voice, so they sounded more meaningful. “I’m always here to listen.” Peter’s eyes fluttered shut again, he took a deep breath as the weight in his chest drifted and, for once, he couldn’t feel it anymore. He leant into the touch and he knew it was so blatantly obvious, but he couldn’t find the strength to pull away and lie. Instead, he reached up his own hand and held Tony’s wrist lightly, as if to keep the soft touch there, to hold the physical feeling of safety and not let it leave. He had to fight down the urge to jump up and embrace Tony, because he knew that even through his very over-sized hoodie, the force of the hug would have made him wince. He wasn’t good enough to hide a wince. 

 

Tony couldn’t know now, not after he’d already been lied to, not after Peter promised he was fine. He was locked in now, telling the truth after he had already lied was the perfect guarantee that he would lose the one person he needed most. And so, he swallowed nervously, bit his cheek and pulled himself together while trying to hide how much his lip quivered when Tony pulled his hand away and looked him in the eyes. He used all his strength to make sure he smiled brightly and contained his stutter.

 

“I’m okay, I’m really fine Tony, it was nice to see you again.” The mechanic still frowned, a little concerned but less so when Peter’s smile looked more honest. The boy ignored the burning behind his eyes while Tony said okay and promised to come by some time soon, before shutting the door quietly behind him. As soon as he heard the front door close, he collapsed onto his bed and buried his face into the pillows, heaving on the sobs made up of longing, terror and the knowledge that he just looked the last person protecting him in the eyes and lied, straight to his face.

 

‘I’m not okay and I’m not fine. I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to say and I’m too afraid to tell anyone. I need your help, but I don’t know how, and I don’t think I want you to notice what’s happening to me. I don’t want you to hate me for being so pathetic. You mean too much to me and I can’t risk losing you.’

 

‘I can’t risk losing the closest thing I have to a Dad.’

 

‘I can’t lose you… not when you mean this much.’

 

The thoughts in his head echoed and the weight was back, heavier than ever before. Peter had two more hours to cry alone in his room before May was getting into her bed and Carter was pushing his door open with the familiar darkness flashing in his green eyes. Honestly, when Peter first saw the man, the sage green eyes had been a commending aspect of his appearance, now they just highlighted the corrupted hate that blazed whenever he saw the teen.

 

\----

 

That night, Peter was left with an almost broken knee and foot shaped bruises that littered his torso like a galaxy. Not even the compact projector Tony gave him all those years ago could help him sleep, the stars reminded him too much of what his own blood looked like, splattered across the basin in the bathroom. 

 

He learned to not cry out in pain unless he wanted to be struck across the mouth until he bit his own lip and drooled crimson.

 

\----

 

One of the first times Carter had hit him hard enough to draw blood, after Peter had crawled under his covers with an ice pack and laid silently with drying tears on his face, he called Tony. He didn’t say anything about what had happened, didn’t bring Carter into the conversation at all. In fact, all he spoke were simple greetings, an excuse for why his voice sounded slightly shaky, then Tony took over, almost like he knew that it was exactly what Peter needed, a distraction. He talked about his day, his meetings, the coffee he made, the rough design sketches he had drawn up, the single sock that had seemed to up and vanish, anything and everything to fill the silence that Peter offered.

 

Somehow, the welcomed distraction worked, the sting of his wounds and the ache of his bruises weren’t as sharp, the tears had stopped coming, and his lips even managed to pull into a small smile when Tony made half-hearted jokes and quips. When he felt himself getting tired, and Tony picked up on it from his mumbled replies, they said goodnight, and for once, Peter didn’t feel the weight and the crushing force of feeling so horribly alone in all of this, as he drifted to sleep.

 

It became a regular thing after that, when there was a particularly agonising injury, Peter was beginning to feel buried under the weight of everything, or it was just a bad night, he would call Tony. Sometimes he sat by the window, staring out into space, sometimes under the covers, whispering hushed replies and praying Carter would never find out once he was home from work. Tony didn’t mind, he caught on pretty quickly and Peter let him run with the idea that it was simply nightmares the teen was dealing with. 

 

As if bad dreams could even comprehend to the waking nightmare Peter felt like he was enduring day after day, hit after hit. Each hissed threat, each sharp movement that resulted in fingernails that dug into his skin, a slap across the cheek, a kick to the shin, objects hatefully flung at him, everything added up, and if Peter didn’t have Tony to lean on, to just hear, to only know that someone still loved him, without that... Peter didn’t know how broken he would be by now.

 

\----

 

The rest of that week consisted of him paying for the time he spent with Tony, but Peter found it hard to regret. He could still remember the feeling of that weight floating off his chest while a steady hand rested on his forehead and cupped his cheek, tethering him to what he had always known as home. Just those two fleeting touches had given Peter hope, and he held out for the next time he would get to see Tony. The only times he slept that week were when he could drift away in his own head and relive the times he used to spend at the workshop in his dreams.

 

\----

 

Thankfully, Tony kept his promise and came over that weekend. Peter still had his hope shut away alongside the weight in his chest, he didn’t know how he would have dealt without seeing Tony that week, the week that was filled with punishment from last time he saw the mechanic. Peter used the only spare time he had to put up other barriers between him and Carter, because he hated how scared he had felt when he realised that once Tony left, he had nothing. He borrowed a lock from one of the shop classes at school, screwing it over his door in the early hours of the morning when he knew Carter was at work and May still slept. It was merely for peace of mind, he only slid it into place when the possibility of anyone trying to get into his room was low. He made sure to spend all possible time in his room studying, so that he couldn’t be called lazy or unmotivated. Unfortunately, it didn’t pay off like he was expecting, because when he won the science fair, May’s praise only proved to aggravate Carter more.

 

Peter thought that Carter might have had an issue with toxic masculinity. The largest problem he seemed to have with the teen, aside from Tony, was how focused he was on science, academic decathlon, mechanics, engineering and anything that involved his head. The man constantly brought up how scrawny the teen was, how little sport he did, his lack of muscles and brawn. Carter favoured physical strength and prowess in contrast to intellect, which seemed to be why Peter was such an issue for him. Funnily enough, the problem Carter had with the boy was exactly what made Tony appreciate him. Regardless, while winning the science fair pleased May and Tony, it was what happened to set Carter off on the teen.

 

\----

 

Tony stood in the living room by the couch, May and Carter eyed the laptop he had under his arm. May had a knowing smile on her face because she understood that the mechanic loved seeing Peter excel in the same areas he had as a child. Carter had a pinched expression on his face, but it quickly melted away to something else as he asked what the laptop was for. When Tony explained it was a gift, Carter laughed mildly, almost coldly.

 

“Course is it, little nerd deserves it.” The comment was a joke, and he knew that, but he wrinkled his nose and didn’t laugh along. It cut into him because he had so often heard that name as a kid, and he didn’t want anyone to stain Peter’s confidence, even if it was a harmless joke. “He’s still in his room, hasn’t come out yet today, probably still sleeping.” Carter jerked his head backward in a half-hearted nod towards Peter’s room, and Tony gladly took the out from the conversation and made his way down the hall. The door was closed all the way, so he opted to knock softly.

 

The noise startled Peter and he sat up immediately in bed, wrapping his arms around his chest as if to provide comfort and shelter from the raging terror in his head that whispered, ‘it’s Carter, coming into the room, even with May home.’ He forced a reply because he had learnt that ignoring the man only meant more pain.

 

“Y – ye – yeah?” Tony frowned at the response, Peter’s voice sounded petrified. His mind flashed back to last weekend when he opened the door and the boy stumbled back with fear written all across his face.

 

“Hey kiddo, it’s Tony, mind if I come in?” He asked kindly, shaking the image from his mind. He heard a muffled thud that sounded like Peter jumping out of bed and racing for the door. He hoped it was because the boy felt better than last he did last week. The sound was followed by a click and he distantly wondered when the boy put a lock on his door, but then he was being met with the sight of Peter, standing in the doorway. His room was dim with the curtains closed, the bed was unmade, and he stood, still fully dressed in his pyjamas.

 

“Tony!” Peter cried happily, an exited and somehow relieved grin was plastered across his flushed cheeks. He returned the boy’s smile when he realised the kid was in a better mood than last time.

 

“I heard you won the science fair, and I felt bad you weren’t getting much sleep last time I was here, so I got you this, to replace that dingy thing that always shuts off on it own.” He held out the laptop and nodded towards the desk where Peter’s old one sat. He walked over and put the gift down next to the other device, turning and eyeing Peter’s very rumpled appearance.

 

“S – sorry, I didn’t know you were coming today,” he mumbled as he hurriedly pulled a hoodie on and reassured himself that the nail marks and finger shaped bruises which ran along his arms were well hidden before they could have been noticed. Tony didn’t pay attention to his apology, he was more focused on the fact that he was seeing Peter in shorts for the first time in a long time. One of his knees was mottled a deep purple and blue, there was a matching bruise with a greenish tint over his opposite shin that ran along the length of the bone.

 

“Buddy… what happened to your legs? They look really banged up…” Peter looked down as if he had only just noticed them, pulling sweatpants over his shorts in a hurry, mumbling over and over that he was fine and that it didn’t even hurt. “No kid, what happened. They were some nasty bruises?”

 

The weight hadn’t lifted yet and Peter was starting to panic, his head was filled with images of Tony finding out and never forgiving him for lying or looking at him like a pathetic child who let himself get beaten. He could see May, working herself to exhaustion because she felt like she had to, or crying as she blamed herself for Peter’s pain and vowed to never see anyone again. He couldn’t do that, Tony couldn’t know, there was no way he could ever find out about everything that was happening.

 

“I – it’s nothing, I j – just tripped in gym class and fell on my knee and th – then later on I kinda scraped up my shin on a bench while I was leaning on it to put my shoe on.” The lie slipped off his tongue and he was surprised by how easily the excuse came to him. “It’s okay they really aren’t that bad, I can’t even feel them. I just bruise easily.” His mind was slipping, and he wasn’t seeing Tony anymore, he saw the door flying open last Thursday night, as Carter barged into his room with the promise of more punishment falling from his lips.

 

He was trying to block the blows from his face because he knew how hard they would be to hide. He tucked his knees to his chest and shielded his torso from the rest of them, but now his legs were taking the brunt of the beating. He felt a boot slam down on his knee and he gasped when the bone groaned in protest. An open palm flew downward and slapped across his forearms which blocked his face. For the briefest moment they were tugged lower than his head and he struggled to lift them higher, so his face didn’t take any damage. Carter used the moment to reach down and shove his fist in Peter’s hair, yanking him harshly so his neck cricked as he was pulled to his knees. “Ah!” The now familiar sensation, of the large hand wrapping over his mouth to stifle any cries, consumed him. By then, Carter had used the traction he got from Peter’s curls to force him to his feet and drag him sideways, so he rested by the foot of his desk. His whimpers were muffled by the hand and it was sickening, but he almost felt glad that his cries were subdued now, because if they hadn’t been, May would have heard as his shin was thrown against the leg of his desk. He felt the skin scrape the wood and all the dips in the bone were made painfully obvious as Carter shoved against the leg again and tugged it downward to leave a long stripe along his shinbone.

 

After the fourth time his leg was forced down the length of his desk, he had been reduced to a silently sobbing mess, on the floor of his room. He wailed once more as a final blow was kicked against his bad knee before the hand finally pulled away from his face and Carter was leaving the room. Along with the retreating figure came the image of reality slowly swimming back into focus and there Tony stood, looking into his eyes with the same concerned and questioning look on his face.

 

‘I just bruise easily,’ he couldn’t believe he ever said something so stupidly cliché to the person who cared the most. Peter immediately changed the subject to gush over the new laptop. “Thank you so much, you really shouldn’t have, y – you didn’t have to, it was just the science fair… nothing major.” Tony waved an arm in dismissal.

 

“Peter, c’mon don’t discredit yourself, winning the science fair is a big deal, ‘specially when it was out of everyone at your school.” He gently chided the boy but still tilted the desk lamp upward, so he could look him over under the direct light. He immediately noticed the dark bags which were still there from last time, and his sleep-mussed hair, the dishevelled and unkempt look that suggested he hadn’t even gotten out of bed yet, which was unusual for him given that it was pretty much lunchtime, but he guessed it was just the teenage thing to do. “How have you been this week, getting more sleep?” He continued to eye Peter’s form and it was a bit more obvious now, how much weight he’d lost. “You look a lot skinnier that the last time I saw you?”

 

“I, uh… y – yeah maybe a little, I’ve just been walking to and from school now with May’s new hours a – and the coach is making us run more laps than normal. I – I forgot my lunch money a few times… b – but it’s all good, I mean, nothing drastic or anything like that.” He gave Tony another fake smile and pushed down the worry clawing inside him and begging to tell the truth about how Carter wouldn’t pick him up from school because he ‘needed the exercise,’ and took the lunch money May left him because the man would rather have his coffee then let Peter eat. Tony looked like he was about to press further, but before the conversation progressed, May called for lunch and Peter was quick to speak. “I – I need to get up properly a – and shower, n’ stuff…” He hated that the visit was so short and so filled with Tony worrying about him, but they said goodbye and the mechanic didn’t miss the sad, longing look Peter had on his face when he left and closed the door behind him again.

 

\----

 

Tony thought about Peter more over the week. He had started to notice how Peter had become a lot quieter, more withdrawn, very introverted and unlike his usual self. Their regular workshop times afterschool had trickled to a stop, meaning the only time he managed to see the boy were when May answered the door, which were only over the weekends. He wondered why Peter had begun to leave the house so much more over the week.

 

The next time he dropped over, it was a Sunday, both May and Carter were home, so they let him head to Peter’s room. The door, once again, was shut, but not locked like last time.

 

“Hey Pete, just me, mind if I come in?” Unlike last time, he didn’t hear footsteps, or any movement. All he got was Peter’s answer, in a quieter than normal voice.

 

“Y – yeah. It’s not l – locked.” His voice held sombre undertones again, and when Tony opened the door, he could see the lock. It looked almost as if it had been ripped from the wall, there was minor chipping in the plaster and the floor beneath the mess was coated in a layer of dust which must have fallen from the cracked paint.

 

“What happened there kiddo?” Peter didn’t turn around from his desk, the back of his chair was blocking his face, but he answered Tony nonetheless.

 

“M’ not allowed a lock I guess,” he couldn’t see what the boy was working on, so he moved around to lean against the desk beside Peter but stopped abruptly when he saw the dark smudge across the side of the kid’s cheek.

 

“Hey, what’s on your face?” He reached out to tilt Peter’s chin to take a better look, but because of the way he was sat facing forward, the teen couldn’t see the gentle fingers, causing him to flinch without warning when he finally noticed them, too close to his face. Tony immediately pulled his hand back. “Sorry kid, just trying to get a better look, I won’t touch it but I wanna know what happened?” Peter turned to face him fully; the bruise followed the curve of his cheekbone and tapered outward like the edges of a watercolour.

 

“I – It’s nothing, just stupid school you know…” He frowned and didn’t accept the explanation in the slightest.

 

“Peter…” He fixed the boy with a heavy gaze, worry jolted through his mind as he imagined someone laying a hand on his kid.

 

“Honestly its fine, someone left their locker open and I was rushing to get to class with Ned and I just wasn’t looking and – and yeah… kinda ran into it.” Tony raised his hand very slowly and deliberately, letting the teen track his movements as he leaned to tilt Peter’s face more into the light.

 

“Pete, it doesn’t look like just a locker did this…” Peter looked away guiltily and bit his lip, gearing himself up to flash another fake smile when Tony gave him the perfect out and asked, “is that little shit on your decathlon team pushing you around again?” He wanted so badly to immediately jump on the excuse, but he forced himself to play it cool and not seem eager.

 

“M – maybe a little bit, okay? Just… d – don’t say anything, I can handle it myself, it’s a tiny bruise and it just looks worse because it’s fresh –”

 

“Peter it can’t be fresh, it’s a Sunday…” He looked concerned, but Peter feared deeper down he was disappointed. Could he even blame Tony if he was disappointed? Either way he played this, Flash or Carter, he was still the scrawny wimp being pushed around.

 

“Okay…” he mumbled dejectedly. “It wasn’t even a big deal, it’s not like he’s bullying me or anything major, just brushed past me too hard and I kinda got shoved into the locker. I – I didn’t run into it, but I sort of did because I stumbled when he shoved me so it’s a bit of both…” He felt sick lying to Tony and it made him want to curl into a ball and cry because of how his face softened when he rested a hand on Peter’s shoulder and squeezed gently.

 

“You don’t need to keep that from me, okay I get it. I won’t press it any more but I gotta tell May if it gets any worse. I’m just trying to look out for you kiddo… cus you don’t deserve this.” The hand on his shoulder held tighter, and Peter focused on that instead of letting his head reel with the image of Carter backhanding him after he was caught on the fire escape, texting Ned about a new Lego set he got. 

 

The mechanic looked at him sincerely for a moment before standing and clapping his hands together, dispelling the tender moment in favour of getting the kid happy again. “Come on then, I’m taking you out for some food,” Peter stiffened slightly and looked to the door where May and Carter were sat, watching T.V down the hall. Tony noticed and dropped his smile slightly. “Just us two, don’t worry, I already checked with them, it’s fine as long as I have you back by curfew.” He lightened again and stood up, only slowing to grab a jacket as he followed Tony out to the lounge. When they stopped by the couch, Peter stood behind Tony silently, fiddling with his jacket, not even looking up at the two on the seat. Carter eyed him suspiciously with a dangerous look in his eyes which went unnoticed to everyone but Peter, as May spoke.

 

“You told him about the bruise?” She asked lightly, the same look of worry that was on Tony’s face mirrored the one on hers. He nodded shakily and didn’t make eye contact when he lifted his head up to where the three adults had their eyes on him.

 

“Y – yeah, just told him how I wasn’t looking and ran into the locker… J – just being clumsy again.” He diverted his gaze once more and Tony noticed May shaking her head sadly, he didn’t see Carter though, who was relaxing beside her on the couch and smirking at Peter proudly.

 

“Okay, we’re heading to grab some food, don’t worry I know it’s a school night, we won’t be out long,” Tony promised, leading Peter to the door with a comforting hand on his back. He kept the hand there until they were in the elevator going down, and when the doors slid shut, he turned to face the teen. “You sure you’re alright? You know I can talk to the school, sort things out for you, even if you don’t want May knowing.”

 

“I know, th – thank you, I’m okay, I can handle it and I don’t… I don’t want to m – make it worse.” Peter let out a breathy laugh and met Tony’s eyes. “Plus, I – I don’t think the school would know what to do if Tony Stark walked into main reception.” The mechanic laughed as they stepped out of the elevator and walked to the car, he slid his sunglasses on when he stepped outside and said evenly, with a hint of humour in his tone.

 

“Oh kid, Tony Stark wouldn’t walk in there,” he paused dramatically by his door, “Iron Man would.” Peter grinned and got into the car with him, a small part of him could almost picture the red and gold suit tearing through the apartment and ripping Carter off him in the middle of a beating. He shoved the thought down and focused on Tony as he fiddled with the radio, he let the ease and completeness of being out of the apartment, safe with Tony, relax his body as they drove.

 

They had an amazing time, Tony could see as Peter relaxed more and more, the further they got from the apartment, he laughed and made jokes, spoke about school and decathlon more. The boy didn’t eat as much as he usually would, but Tony assumed he ate a large breakfast. Peter was smiling, and his cheeks flushed when he got excited and stumbled over his words, they discussed more possible projects in the workshop and Tony continually ordered small things, just so they could stay seated and talk until the sun began to set. When they finished, he had about eight small plates of muffin wrappers, half-eaten biscuits and empty coffee cups.

 

He was thrilled to see Peter’s smile again and hear his bubbly laughter. He might have not admitted it or said anything, but he had been starting to grow slightly worried when the teen had been so closed in on himself the past few visits. But now, seeing the warmth and gleam in his eyes as he excitedly recounted the science project him and Ned had built together while his fork waved around animatedly, it was almost easy to forget how troubling the silence had been.

 

After they both noted the time and reluctantly walked back to the car, the drive back felt somewhat less easy as Peter began to fade back into his quieter state. Tony pulled up outside the apartment and began to say goodnight, but he trailed off when Peter leaned over and wrapped his arms around him, ignoring the way the handbrake pressed into his bruised side. 

 

The contact surprised the mechanic for a moment as his words faded out, the two didn’t often fully hug, it was normally just the occasional hand on shoulder or ruffling of hair. Tony had become less inclined to giving and receiving physical affection since Afghanistan, but he didn’t mind when it came to Peter. On the less common occasions where he would make the contact first, he always made sure the boy had time to move away from touch if he needed to. Peter was shy, he wasn’t normally the one to initiate the affection, but once it was offered, he melted into the touch and let it consume him, more so than ever before, now that Carter was in his life. He had always been slightly sheepish when it came to talking about his relationship with Tony, if he couldn’t explain to himself why he felt so comfortable and at home with the man, how would he ever tell the mechanic like May always suggested. He remembered how big of a grin had been on her face when he accidentally referred to Tony as his ‘father-figure.’

 

“Thanks, f – for not telling May about my face and for getting us food… it – it was fun.” He quickly began to pull back, thinking he had overstepped what the billionaire was comfortable with. Tony was fast to return the hug when he felt Peter leaning back away, he dropped his arms and let them hang over the kid’s back, patting gently and resting his chin atop the thick curls.

 

“It’s all good, you don’t need to thank me kiddo, I wanted to.” Both of them stayed still for a moment longer, then when the embrace finally broke apart, Peter slid out from the car as he tucked his hands into his jacket sleeves compulsively.

 

He watched Peter as he walked back into the building and waved goodbye as he turned back, smiling sadly. His body seemingly shrank back into himself as the same dismal expression clouded his face when he turned inside and walked out of sight before his cracking mask of ‘normality’ finally broke away and the tears fell once again. But Tony couldn’t see as the teen’s cheeks grew wet, all he could see was his kid’s back as he moved into the elevator.

 

\----

 

Carter was furious that night and by the time he was leaving for work, Peter was already sprawled out, unconscious, on his bedroom floor.

 

When he woke, how ever many minutes or hours later it had been, he was confused and sluggish. He couldn’t remember the sequence of events that had ended with him on the ground, but he could recall the warm feeling of a hug being returned and not feeling hungry for the first time in months. He was drowsy, and as he went to stand up everything began to spin. The blurry room he could barely make out, split into two and he was aware enough to realise he had double vision. He sat down immediately, hoping the dizziness would fade along with the debilitating headache that was pounding away inside his skull painfully. Not trusting himself on his feet, he opted to crawl to the bathroom, wavering on his hands and knees every few seconds as his balance teetered and the nausea grew into thrashing waves that crept up his throat.

 

Peter felt the unsteady feeling that grew in his stomach and throat as his mouth flooded with saliva. He clambered to the bathroom, groaning as his bruised knees pressed sharply against the tile. The light was too harsh when he reached to flick it on, and he let his eyes adjust to the darkness while he leant over the toilet and tried not to lose the meal he had gotten with Tony. He managed to keep it back after considerable effort, but the lingering feeling that reminded him of too-long car journeys as a child still remained as he rested his sweaty forehead on the seat.

 

When May got up and started making noise as she got ready, everything did come up. The lights in the hallway and the clattering of bowls in the kitchen sent him over the edge and he threw up everything, the heaving made his bruised torso burn even more than the stomach acid stung his split lips. His ears were ringing and when May knocked on the door softly to ask why he was up so early the noise felt unbearable inside his skull.

 

“J – Jus’ goin’ toilet, have a good day at w – work” he forced out, still sitting on the floor, hoping that she would just take his word and leave for work before he started to retch again.

 

“Okay honey, see you later then.” Her voice was soft and caring, but the rattle of her keys and the noise of the front door shutting reverberated in his head like a gunshot. Briefly, he hoped what was most likely a concussion, wasn’t going to be a major issue as he pulled himself back into bed and lifted the covers over his head, wishing that Carter wasn’t arriving home any minute.


	3. Workshop (Your Feelings)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter risks it for time with Tony, and who could blame him, Carter's patience is wearing thin the more time Peter spends with the billionaire.
> 
> Peter and Tony may call after a bad night, but Tony and May have phones too, and their worry is growing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO happy you guys left so many positive comments last chapter!
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to tomato_carnage because you left such an amazing comment and it made my day <3
> 
> I appreciate every single comment, kudos and bookmark and I hope you enjoy this chapter (it's a little longer)
> 
> <3

Peter hadn’t been to the workshop in over a month, almost two now.

 

It hurt. 

 

He missed Tony so much he could physically feel it, the few times he could hear the mechanic asking about him at the door of the apartment were hard, it hurt so much to hear his voice and not be able to just talk to him. Not about his problems, not about Carter, just about anything, everything that was going on in his life outside of home. Even if he didn’t talk, being in the workshop and working on a project together was all he wanted. All he needed.

 

By the time his concussion had faded away enough for him to stand up without the room going dark for a moment, he was willing to endure almost anything if it just meant he could see Tony.

 

Truthfully, it took him a few days to weigh it up, balancing how furious he knew Carter would be compared to the aches and bruises he already had. It wasn’t a particularly hard choice to decide it was worth it. Spending time with Tony was worth the beating he would certainly get when he got home. If he planned it right, there was a chance he could stay the night on Friday, spend Saturday with the mechanic, and prepare himself for the suffering that would no doubt occur Sunday night, once his Aunt was asleep.

 

He texted May when he left for school on Friday morning, she responded by lunch, telling him it was fine to hang out at the workshop as long as he was home to spend the day on Sunday, considering weekends were really the only time they got to see each other. If Tony picked him up at three he would have two days of time spent with one of the most important people in his life, time spent without feeling like he needed to cower when Carter was only a room over, to feel like he had to look over his shoulder every five minutes in fear of the man. It felt like he was getting forty-eight of bliss. He had grown so used to the constant, debilitating weight that pressed down on him every second he was in the apartment, that being away, safe, with Tony, it almost didn’t seem real for a moment.

 

When he saw Tony and his car, parked outside the school, he could have cried at the relief and assurance of safety he so desperately sought. The drive was good, he may have been hot outside wearing his long pants and hoodie, but the air con was on in the car and he wasn’t questioned about anything.

 

While they tinkered away he relished in simply babbling for the sake of it. He had gotten used to only speaking when asked direct questions, and the mundane chatter slowly forced his defensive, submissive body positioning to melt away. They ate dinner, he had an entire full-sized meal for the first time in what felt like a lifetime.

 

Tony ruffled his hair fondly when he got up and walked by. He couldn’t help the flinch, too many times had his curls been used as a handhold or a means of forcing his head down into a wall or table. Once the instinctual fright passed, he smiled and turned into the touch, if the mechanic had noticed anything, he didn’t bring it up. He hoped that Tony wouldn’t catch on to the winces as his bruises were twisted at an uncomfortable angle, or the flinching and tensing up when something moved too fast. He didn’t let the worry sour the time he got to spend at the workshop, and he made sure to take advantage of a full night’s sleep, not having to worry about what time Carter was getting home from work.

 

They fell asleep on the couch, Peter leant his head on Tony’s shoulder softly, a small tint to his cheeks as he saw the mechanic smiling to himself and not moving away from the touch. He let the sensation of the body next to him rising and falling help him sleep soundly. The next morning, when he woke up, he had been covered with a blanket and the kitchen smelled like food. He trailed out and spent the rest of the day playing around with things in the workshop and laughing with Tony until both of their ribs hurt.

 

\----

 

Tony let Peter lean on him, a small smile gracing his lips when he felt the teen slumping against him lazily. He waited until the kid was out like a light before he tenderly brushed a curl from his forehead and leant him back until he was reclined on the couch like it was a bed. He laid a blanket over the boy and noticed how his face softened in sleep, his forehead and nose weren’t scrunched in thought, his shoulders were lax, the tension he had seemingly been carrying drained out of his form and his head rested on his arms. Tony gently tilted his head up and slid a pillow underneath before walking back down to the workshop and tiring himself out, so he could sleep too.

 

He woke up early and when he walked into the lounge to check on the kid, he was still fast asleep, cheek pressed against the cushion and legs curled up against the back of the couch, one arm dangling over the side so his knuckles grazed the floor. Tony couldn’t help the fond smile that crossed his lips when he saw Peter splayed across the furniture happily. He moved to the kitchen and started to prepare food while he waited for the teen to wake.

 

He didn’t like the way that he noticed Peter stiffening back up when he finally woke, he didn’t like the way that he tensed when the fork clanged against the surface of the bench or flinched when their arms bumped together as they ate. Tony didn’t want the boy to start drifting back into his quieter self, so he dragged him down to the workshop and pulled out the textbooks Peter regularly left lying around.

 

“Okay kiddo, I’m helping you get ahead for advanced science class, so basically I’m teaching you _advanced_ advanced science.” Peter grinned widely and jumped into the seat next to him, spinning around in a circle before pulling the chair in and resting his face on his elbows, a mock look of intense concentration on his face while Tony rolled his eyes fondly and threw him a pen. “You’re welcome, I’m making you even more of a genius, use it for good and don’t take over the world or I’ll set Iron Man on you.” He poked Peter’s arm with the pen teasingly.

 

“Oh please, even if I used my brain for evil, you’d never set the suit on me,” he swung around in the chair again as he laughed. “You lurrrve me too much,” his foot slid off the chair and dragged against the floor to bring his spin to a halt. “Uh, like, I – I don’t mean that like… y’know I just, um –” he coughed, spluttering through his own words. “J – just, May ‘larbs’ me but she also loves me too but it – uh, it – it’s different with us cus, uh – uh you’re… I’m…” Peter’s face was flushed a dark pink, he licked his lips nervously, squeezing his eyes shut as if he couldn’t believe what he had just said, and refused to meet Tony’s eyes.

 

“Kid,” he levelled the boy with a calm gaze, pushing as much relaxed air into his words as possible. “Kid, relax a bit,” he smirked mirthfully to ease his tone, “you know Iron Man lurrrves everyone.” Peter finally looked up at him, his cheeks still flushed abashedly, he smiled shyly.

 

“Uh, y – yeah,” he laughed weakly, “s – sorry. I uh – I didn’t mean to… um, say that you actually lo – uh… yeah.” Peter was biting his lower lip obsessively, but he scrambled to tap at an equation on the page regardless, slowly crawling his way out of the pit of embarrassment he had dug himself into. “So… with these components here, would you factor them into the reactants or would they make up some of the catalyst.” Tony took the obvious bait without hesitation, he knew the boy well enough to recognise when he needed a distraction.

 

“Yep, you got it, they would comprise the base reactants so when the actual reaction occurred the formula doesn’t badly impact on the products formed.” Peter let the mechanic throw words and equations at him gladly, after a few minutes the initial embarrassment had faded away into the relaxed nature of the workshop again and he was content to idly tap his pen against his hands as he listened to Tony explaining things. He paid attention, he was quite happy just watching the man circling parts of the workings and point things out while he was learning.

 

Peter had been concentrating, he had focused on exactly what Tony was saying and even jotting down some of the key things, so he could understand the concept better. His eyes had drifted from the homework strewed across the desk, he had been aiming to meet the billionaire’s eyes to show that he was listening, but now his gaze had drifted. He was staring at a minuscule, faded and obsolete cut just above Tony’s eyebrow and beside his temple. The skin was scabbed over, but it hadn’t been there the last time he came over to the lab. The injury was so tiny it couldn’t even classify as an injury, it looked so normal, especially for a superhero to have, but something about it set off Peter’s mind.

 

“ – eter? Pete?” He snapped his eyes back down and shuffled uncomfortably in his chair as his mentor’s face, now pinched with slight concern, turned toward him. “You okay kiddo?” He nodded weakly, his eyes flicking up to the small graze for just a moment before he dropped his head again to stare blankly at the pages in front of him. “Sorry, did I go too quick then? You drifted a bit there bud,” Tony rested his hand over the pen Peter had been tapping nervously against the desk, he opened his mouth to ask again, but the teen couldn’t stop himself from blurting out the question to calm the growing worry in his mind.

 

“What’s that cut? O – on your forehead, it wasn’t there before.” Tony blinked, taken aback for a moment.

 

“Uh, I just fiddled around with the faceplate and left a wire a little too loose, nothing major. Didn’t even bleed, why?” He looked to Peter incredulously and the teen gulped, immediately feeling stupid, because of course Tony Stark was okay. He wouldn’t put let himself get pushed around, he wouldn’t lie about it. 

 

Tony wasn’t a liar like he was.

 

“Nothing, I just… just thought – it was dumb, I was making sure you were okay, sorry.” He chewed the cap of his pen and bit the inside of his cheek until he could feel himself beginning to wince from the pain of it. “I, um, hadn’t seen news of a fight on T.V with Iron Man and just… uh, yeah, sorry.”

 

“No, it’s fine, don’t apologise.” There was a pause in the conversation and Peter spent all of it wishing he had just kept his mouth shut. If he could drop his head against the desk in frustration, he would have. “Is this stuff even on your curriculum?” He gladly diverted his attention back to the homework laid out before them both, ignoring the way his heart stuttered when he was sure Tony was okay.

 

“P – probably not.” Maybe he was projecting, maybe he was just making sure everybody he cared about was safe because he internally wished he had the courage to ask Tony to help _him_ be okay. He just needed to focus on the present and ignore any worry churning inside him about the future, because if he was in the lap with Tony, he would cherish the time before he had to go home instead of sullying it with his stuttering and aversion to talking about home life.

 

\----

 

Logically, Tony made sure the rest of the day was enjoyable for Peter, he made jokes, let the kid have free rain in the workshop, ordered his favourite pizza, threw a napkin at him and blew something small up in the lab just to see him laugh while they ducked under a bench. When he finally ushered him to the car, he was almost hesitant to see him go, he worried it would be another massive wait before they could spend time together again.

 

When Peter was dropped home he wavered in the car for longer then what was strictly normal, but neither of the two cared. Despite wanting to latch onto the mechanic for another hug, he didn’t want the man to worry any more than he probably already was. Peter pulled himself back to the apartment and stood outside the door for almost five entire minutes before he reluctantly opened it and stepped in to find the apartment empty. For a moment, panic set in and all he could think was that Carter had snapped and hurt May because he hadn’t been there to take the beating. Before an anxiety attack overwhelmed him, his eyes caught a blue sticky note hanging off the fridge and when he scurried toward it and pulled it into his hands, he immediately slumped with relief.

 

‘Hi sweetie, we’ve gone out for dinner, there’s leftovers from lunch in the fridge for you. We’ll be back later on tonight.’

 

There was a series of rushed x’s and o’s at the bottom of the note, Peter smiled to himself as he pulled the container full of slightly burnt sausage rolls from the fridge. When he checked his phone, May had also texted him the same message, he shot her one back saying thanks and that he was getting an early night. The shower pulled multiple winces and groans from him as the spray hit his bruises, but he climbed into bed all the same and laid back on his pillow, remembering the feeling of gentle hands ruffling his hair without a hint of malice in them.

 

He slept uneasily that night and jolted upward when he heard May and Carter getting home late. He heard giggles and May shushing Carter, waving the man away as she softly knocked at his door and pushed it open. 

 

“Hey Pete, I know you’re probably tired out from the workshop, I’m just coming to say goodnight.” She sat beside him on the mattress and from the hallway he could hear Carter getting ready for bed, at least that meant he was safe for that night. May’s hand carded through his hair, he dropped his head, so it lulled against her side and she sighed. “It’s been awhile since you’ve gone over to the workshop, how was it?” The light from the hallway illuminated the back of May’s head and made the edges of her brown hair glow slightly, her hand continued to move through his hair soothingly.

 

“It – it was…” he paused and let himself blow out a breath before he spoke. “It was amazing May, I – I’ve just been so busy with school and it had been so long since we, well… y’know, since we just tinkered and hung out n’ stuff.” May smiled knowingly and looked him in the eyes.

 

“You’ve missed him, haven’t you Pete?” He nodded slowly, containing the blush that threatened to tint his cheeks. “Why don’t you get him to come and have dinner over here, this coming week Tuesday I have a day off, someone swapped shifts. I’ll order some more Thai and once Carter goes to work we can watch a movie, just the three of us. That sound good?” He looked at his hands and played with the hem of his shirt awkwardly.

 

“I – is Carter okay with that?” May frowned in confusion slightly and he swallowed nervously. “I – I just mean, like it’s your only day off for the week and I don’t wanna take time away from you o – or anything…” He wished he had just kept his mouth shut, he should have stayed quiet and nodded. “You and Carter are really happy a – and I don’t want to accidentally get in the way of that, b – but I do… I do miss Tony sometimes,” he trailed of and kept silent, not daring to look up at May’s face.

 

“Pete, you know that with the hours I work, all our schedules are hectic, and I haven’t seen much of you at all these past few months. I had all of today and yesterday with Carter, I want some time with you and Tony,” she tapped the bed beside his hands and he looked up. She was looking at him closely, almost squinting in the absence of proper lighting. “You’re growing up so quick Pete, you need to eat more, hm?” He shrugged but smiled, bumping her shoulder with his mildly.

 

“Not with your cooking,” he joked, she smirked and pushed his head away with her hand, laughing lightly.

 

“Sure mister, I didn’t hear any complaints about those rolls I left in the fridge for you.” She placed a kiss on his forehead and stood up, still smiling warmly. “Tuesday’s settled, get some sleep, you’ve got rings under your eyes.” Her eyes crinkled when her smile broadened as she clicked the door shut behind her and walked to her own bedroom.

 

\----

 

The first thing he did the next morning was text Tony, who replied easily and said he was free to swing by and have dinner with them. Peter spent all of the Sunday close to his Aunt, mentally prepping himself for what was coming once she wasn’t there.

 

He didn’t know why, but when May hugged him goodnight and went to her room to sleep as he staggered off to his own room, he just sat at the edge of his bed, didn’t bother to change into pyjamas, didn’t bother to crawl under the covers. He just waited for the inevitable, he knew it was coming, why get into bed if he was just going to be yanked out of it by his hair as soon as Carter came in?

 

Eventually, he heard the T.V turn off, he heard footsteps walking down to May’s room, and then he heard them coming down the hall to his room. The man always checked she was asleep before he dealt with Peter. The door pushed open and he stood up to face Carter, despite the crushing weight in his chest shoving him back down.

 

“So,” Carter’s hands gripped his shirt and tugged him forward harshly before slamming him backward into the wall beside his bed. “You snuck off to Stark’s house to stay the night without asking,” the corner of his bedside table was digging into the back of his leg painfully. “And now you’re bringing him into the apartment for dinner?” His fingers dug in, Peter could feel his nails grating against his shoulder and collarbones.

 

“I – I texted Aunt May f – first.” Carter’s lips peeled back into a snarl when Peter spoke, the fingers tightened, impossibly, and pulled a pained whine from his throat as his own hands scrabbled to find purchase on Carter’s so he could loosen the unrelenting grip.

 

“You know exactly what happens when you spend time with Stark,” he squirmed against the wall but only succeeded in scraping his leg further against the edge of the table. His head throbbed as fight or flight instincts kicked in, little snippets came flying to the forefront of his mind and he focused on May’s hand, running through his hair, Tony’s shoulder as he fell asleep, his hair being ruffled, a warm, workshop calloused hand pressed against his forehead and cheeks, the feeling of the mechanic’s arms dropping to return his hug. “Once Tuesday is over and him and May are out, you are going to learn the consequences of –”

 

“I don’t c – care,” he surprised himself when he cut Carter off, but then again, all he could feel was Tony tilting his chin gently and looking across at him over the rim of a coffee mug, a half-smile dangling on his face while he listened to Peter recounting his latest experiment in chem lab. Despite the terror coursing through him, he knew that every slap for him, was one that the people he loved would never feel, and he would take this for a lifetime if it meant nobody else got hurt. “Y – you can punish me all you want… s – seeing Tony is w – worth it.” Carter was glaring with intent, but his mouth kept pushing words out and he didn’t know how to stop it. “I d – don’t know why you hate him… h – he’s only ever been good to May a – and I know you don’t care, b – but he’s always been th – there for me too. Tony is nothing but a g – good pers –”

 

“Listen here, brat.” Carter lifted his weight for a moment before shoving him back against the wall, making the bedside table rattle. His voice was low, and it wasn’t just because he didn’t want May hearing, he was exemplifying the intensity of his threats. “You got it right when you say I hate Stark and I don’t give a shit about you, I couldn’t give two fucks whether you care about punishment or not. They’ll continue each and every time you let that man into this apartment or run off after school with him, regardless whether you learn from them or not, got it?” The fingers squeezed, and he let out a cracked yelp as he felt the nails piercing skin.

 

“Y – yes, yes… I – I do.” Carter used him to shove his body off and away from the wall, before turning and storming out of the room, leaving Peter to jump for the door to stop it from slamming and waking May up.

 

His hands were shaking violently, and his breathing wasn’t coming evenly. All he could feel was Carter’s harsh hits, he couldn’t focus on any of the soft touches May and Tony dealt him, he was petrified, and the feeling wasn’t going away, even now that Carter had left the room. He choked on a dry sob and bit down on his fist to stop the noises. Peter pressed his forehead against the door before rolling over to his back and sliding down until he was sat on the floor with his knees pulled to his chest and his spine against the wood. “O – oh god,” tears were streaming from his eyes, running down his cheeks and dropping onto his knees but he couldn’t stop them. He was trembling as the winds inside his head whirled together and created a hurricane that blew him into a new mental state. “I can’t, I – I – I can’t do this, I can’t. I – I can’t do this by myself, I can’t.” 

 

He felt so pathetic, he didn’t want to picture how he must have looked, on the floor of his bedroom crying. The hurricane was picking up so strongly and spinning his thoughts around that he couldn’t get a grip on his lungs and he wasn’t catching any air. “I can’t – I – I can’t. Pleasepleaseplease… I can’t.” He stumbled to the bathroom and was barely able to flip the seat up before his dinner was crawling up his throat and more tears were sliding down his face, even as he doused it in water blearily and avoided the mirror. 

 

Everything felt unreal in that moment, his fingers felt like T.V static as he balled them into fists while he stood, and when the world spun, it didn’t register in his mind. Peter felt like a fried circuit board as his legs numbly carried him back to his room while his fists tugged at his hair and pushed at his temples, trying to force the gale inside his head to stop so that he could just _breathe_. He felt like his lungs and body were shutting down as if he had hit the emergency reset button, but he wasn’t resetting, he was breaking down. It felt like something had implanted a virus into a computer and everything was shutting down.

 

He was a computer and Carter was his virus. He was shutting down, he was breaking, he needed to be reset. Someone had to help him lift this weight, he needed the weight to go away or he was going to crack.

 

But suddenly, as if someone had held up a hand to freeze the hurricanes and viruses inside of him, a thought bubbled through him. It calmed the system, he was cooling down, he would be okay if he just followed that thought and held on like a lifeline.

 

Tony.

 

Peter doesn’t think. By the time he had calmed down enough to move without hurling again or passing out, it was six thirty-two in the morning and May left in less than half an hour. He grabbed his phone, an extra hoodie and shoved his shoes on before he paced alongside his bed until he heard May leaving and Carter getting home. Once he was positive that the man had gotten into bed, he crawled out the fire escape as silently as he could and dropped to the ground. After only a moment to steady himself from the slight drop, and for the black edges of his vision to fade away, he was walking, or practically jogging until the apartment was out of view.

 

Peter didn’t stop or slow except for checking his phone for directions. Men and women dressed for work were barging past him, there was so much noise, but it was all fuzz to his eyes and ears, he was trained on one thing and the blurry tint to the corners of his eyes didn’t hold him back anymore. He couldn’t even feel the burn in his legs or the strain on his bruises as he careened past more and more buildings. The only thing he could feel was the weight crushing his torso and the phantom sensation of the lingering, comforting touches that he sought after. His mind was filled with a continuous echo of _Tony._

 

_TonyTonyTony. Get to Tony, he would make this okay, he would lift the weight. Tony would help._

 

By the time the tower was coming into view and he could see the doors, his hands had begun to quiver again, and his breathing was laboured. His tongue was dry, and his head felt like it was filled with packing foam. He walked through the spinning doors like a zombie and swiped his access card, swaying on his feet as the elevator took him up to the labs. The sound of music was distant, and he wasn’t fully focusing on anything except the tell-tale clinking of metal on metal which he knew for a fact was Tony. He was running now, he stumbled when he pushed open the doors to the lab, something fell off the bench when he threw an arm out to steady himself on his way to Tony.

 

\----

 

Tony had been nodding his head to the pulse of the music and twisting pieces of wiring together precisely as he heard the bang of hands against glass and the sliding sound of the door pushing open. When he looked up, Peter, to his absolute and complete surprise, was tumbling through the doorway clumsily and knocking over an old project as he skittered forward like a lost animal.

 

The kid was sweaty and pale, he didn’t look halfway put together at all, his hair resembled Tony’s after he pulled several all-nighters in a row. His face seemed gaunt and his eyes were lined with what looked like more bruising, but he slowly realised they were just bags, from not sleeping. He jolted up from his chair and left it spinning as he met the teen halfway.

 

“Kid wha –”

 

“Tony!” Peter careened into him without slowing down in the slightest, he had to grip the desk beside them to keep himself on his feet when he was met with a frantic, desperate hug. “I – I – I…” Peter’s mouth was opening and closing like he didn’t know what was going on, for a moment, he thought the boy might have been tipsy with how delirious he was acting. There was a face shoved against his chest and fingers scrabbling at the back of his old shirt, but he held the kid up all the same with an arm around his back and another laid across his shoulder blades. He thought he heard a hiss of pain as they made contact, but between the boy’s panting and spluttering, there was no way to tell.

 

“Pete, what are you… I thought you had school?” Peter hiccupped and sniffled quietly, burying his face into the crook of his neck and murmuring something quietly. “What’s that? You’re scaring me a bit bud… mind telling me what’s going on?”

 

“I – I just… I can’t… I don’t – I…” Tony could feel the boy’s chest rising and falling rapidly against his ribcage and he made the decision to pull back from the hug and lean him over.

 

“Take some deep breaths for me kiddo, just calm down, I’m not angry or anything. Just focus on getting some air.” He pushed away the hair that fell into the teen’s face and trailed the hand down to the back of his neck to finger-brush the curls soothingly as Peter sucked in breath after breath. “There you go, it’s all good buddy.” He waited until there was at least some of the usual colour back in the boy’s face before he crouched down to eye level and began the arduous task of digging the problem out of the finicky kid. “Okay, you feeling alright now, bit better?” Peter nodded shakily and sunk to his knees, so he could reach up and wrap his arms around Tony’s neck. He huffed a light laugh as he felt the smaller head lolling against his shoulder tiredly while he carried them both to the couch in the corner of the room. “Right, wanna start by telling me if school was cancelled, or am I about to get a call from a vengeful Aunt?” He smiled and rubbed Peter’s shoulder with a calming, joking tone in his voice.

 

“I – I just… m’ sorry, I just wan – needed to see you.” Tony’s eyes softened even more, and he squeezed Peter’s shoulder gently. The mechanic had no idea that the affectionate touches were washing away the feeling of Carter’s fingers pinning the teen against a wall as non-veiled threats were whispered behind closed doors. “I di – didn’t think about school… s – sorry,” Tony knew a plagued mind when he saw one, and something about the way Peter was stuttering more and wringing his hands together anxiously was telling him that he needed to talk it out. He was good at sensing those things out, especially when it came to Peter, who exhibited the same behaviour that he did. By the looks of the bags under his eyes and obvious dip in body weight, the kid was working through something and he needed to let it out.

 

“Don’t apologise, I’ll call the school later, it’s no hassle. You just tell me what’s going on, I’ve been worried about you for a while now kiddo.” Peter didn’t answer him, just continued to fiddle with his twitchy fingers and nibble at his lips nervously. The kid did this often, Tony had spent enough time around him to know when something was really wrong, because usually it would go one of two ways. Either, he would ask the teen what was wrong, and he would spill it easily, then brush it off without too much difficulty, he did that a lot when it came to kids giving him a hard time at school, or he was struggling with advanced science work (which, to be fair, wasn’t often considering how much of a genius he was). The second way he played it, Peter wouldn’t be able to tell him anything himself, he had to dig the truth out of him, question by question, assurance by assurance. It sounded like work and it was hard work sometimes, but Tony was willing to do anything, just so he could know for a fact that the kid, his kid, was okay.

 

“I’m sorry, I d – didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean to just show up, I – I wasn’t thinking and… I – I just started walking and I don’t kn – I don’t know, then I looked up and I saw the tower and I saw you, then I was just… I was just running, I – I don’t know why or –”

 

“Wait, wait, wait.” Tony held up a hand and the fingers over Peter’s shoulders tightened a fraction in concern. “Pete… are you telling me that you walked here, by yourself, from Queens?” The boy nodded meekly, fearing he had done something wrong. “God kiddo, that’s at least a three-hour walk. Why didn’t you call me?” A gaunt, bleak face stared back at him in a way that made his head throb in worry.

 

He stretched his thumb and index finger around Peter’s wrist and frowned when they touched, with plenty of room to spare. “Did you eat breakfast this morning?” The teen shrugged in a way that said he definitely hadn’t eaten. Tony lifted his hand cautiously, waiting until he was sure Peter’s eyes were tracking his movements before he cupped both sides of his face and laid his thumbs over his cheeks, rubbing small circles and surveying the dark rings under his eyes closely. “Have you been sleeping? Did you even sleep at all last night?” He dropped his hands to allow Peter to shake his head slowly. “Why? Why haven’t you been sleeping kid?”

 

“I – I…” The boy let his shoulders sag and Tony watched as his mouth fumbled to find the words. “I… I can’t sleep,” Peter whispered quietly, averting his gaze in favour of toying with his hands again. He quirked an eyebrow to egg the kid on. “I think, last night… I just – I don’t know what happened, I was fine, then I wasn’t, and I was crying… I – I didn’t know why but I felt like I was just… I couldn’t breathe right, and I was walking around and around in circles then I heard May leaving and I was outside… then I saw the tower and you,” he took a shaky breath, “it all just sort of… blurred together?”

 

“Pete, did you have a panic attack?” He reached out to lay a hand over Peter’s, halting the fidgeting and stilling his outward expression of anxiety.

 

“I – I don’t know… I th – think so, maybe…” Peter flipped his hand over and clasped his fingers around and in-between Tony’s, gripping them tightly and leaning forward so his face was hidden against the mechanic’s shoulder. “It was my fault… I – I should’ve st – stopped it, a – and now I’m getting nightmares b – but it’s all my fault.”

 

“Hey, no Pete, no. Panic attacks are not your fault, don’t say tha –”

 

“N – not the panic attack. I mean B – Ben.” He sniffled again, and Tony could feel him tensing up as they drifted closer to the obvious heart of the problem.

 

“What do you mean about Ben?” Tony brushed a loose curl behind Peter’s ear as he took a breath to answer.

 

“I – I was there… when it happened. It – it was my f – fault,” his voice broke on a sob and while Tony was flooded in utter confusion, he still pulled the teen into his chest and rubbed his back as the tears began to fall.

 

“Shh, kid it’s okay, it’s okay. I promise it’s okay.” Peter was crying now, and he was almost worried the boy was going to fall into another panic attack because the sobs were so heavy and thick.

 

“I n – never told you… I – I thought – I thought you’d hate me,” he sniffled, and continued talking before Tony could protest his statement. “W – we were just getting food, a – and there was a man running. I – I didn’t see the gun, b – but Ben did, he tried to help. H – he was just trying to help a – and I was just standing there where he p – pushed me away. I should’ve helped, I – I could’ve done something.”

 

“Kiddo, that was not your fault. God, you were ten years old Peter, you couldn’t have done anything.” He could feel the damp spot on his shoulder growing as the boy sobbed through the recount. Tony hadn’t known, neither May or Peter brought Ben up much, for good reason apparently. “Bud, hey, you can’t put that on yourself.”

 

“H – he got shot a – and I didn’t try to h – help him stop the man with the gun, h – he told me to stay back, b – but I should’ve – I should have helped…” He ran a hand through Peter’s matted curls and rubbed his shoulder blades.

 

“Peter, don’t blame yourself, that was not your fault and it never will be. Ben was a smart man, he told you to stay back for a good reason.” He stilled his hands and waited until the boy took the message and looked up at him with watery eyes. “I could _never_ hate you buddy. You don’t need to keep stuff away from me because I’ll never blame you for anything like that. There is no way in hell that would _ever_ be your fault, you couldn’t have done anything to help, not against a gun, not when you were only ten years old.” Peter squirmed in the embrace and Tony let go so the teen could lean forward and drop his head into his hands, rubbing his eyes and wiping away the remainder of his tears.

 

“I’m sorry, I – I am. I just… I’m sorry about all the c – calls, and how I’m in your space all the t – time now.” Tony was about to interrupt to assure the kid that it was all fine, but Peter kept talking. “I haven’t been sleeping well… like, at all. T – too many nightmares, I keep seeing it all again and I just – I blame myself every time.” He huffed concernedly, looking up to the ceiling and chewing the inside of his lip as he thought of what he could possibly do to take away Peter’s pain.

 

“Okay,” he said after a few minutes of silence and thought. “Here’s what’s gonna happen now. I’m taking you to the kitchen and getting some food into you,” he brushed Peter’s wrist to make his point, running a thumb over the jutting bones and frowning slightly as he took in exactly how slim the boy’s arms had gotten. “Then, once you’ve eaten what _I deem_ to be a substantial amount, you’re taking a nap and resting until I can get you home to May.” Peter continued to stare down at his lap with a dull expression.

 

“D – does this mean you aren’t coming over… o – on Tuesday?” Tony smiled and rubbed the teen’s shoulder warmly, letting him lean into his side.

 

“Nah, I’ll be there kiddo, wouldn’t pass on Thai and a movie.” He lightly bumped Peter’s shoulder and smiled when he looked up. “And I’d never pass on spending time with you,” he watched Peter intently before continuing. “Don’t ever think I don’t enjoy your calls and stuff, you’re not in my space all the time,” the kid squinted at him curiously and he pursed his lips in thought before persisting. “Look, you know I’m a bit… iffy… about touching and all that, but I don’t care about it when you need some. Right now, here, when you’re upset, bud you gotta know I really don’t give a shit.” Tony wrinkled his nose and nudged Peter again, “you need a hug, you get a hug. Real simple. I’m not gonna push you away or anything like that, I’m not an asshole.”

 

“O – okay…” Peter chewed at the inside of his cheek and Tony sighed with a smile on his face.

 

“C’mere,” he said quietly, tugging the teen into his chest as he rubbed his back and slipped a hand upward into his curls, carding through them contentedly. “You’ll be okay, I’ve got you covered,” he murmured into the kid’s hair as he felt the smaller body melting into the embrace. “I know when you’re stressed, you aren’t hungry, but you gotta eat more,” he reminded. The thick hoodies and long pants had swaddled the boy, but through the hug he could feel how much weight had actually been lost. 

 

Peter was so bony now; the hug was bordering on mildly uncomfortable for the mechanic as long legs and arms gave way to sharp elbows and knees. “Let’s get you something to eat,” he felt the teen shifting and as the hug broke apart he stood and nodded towards the door. “Come on, you’re too scrawny, I’m getting you food,” Tony turned on his heel and moved for the door as he saw Peter standing from the couch in the corner of his eye. “Y’know, I could start sending a suit to the fire escape by your room every night to take you pizza, so you gain some more weig –” There was a small groan from behind him and he turned around in time to see Peter’s body hitting the ground.

 

\----

 

He sunk into Tony as soon as his arms opened for an embrace, he pushed his face into the mechanic’s shoulder and, despite the fact that it wasn’t even eleven in the morning yet, he could still smell the coffee and metallic tinge of the workshop clinging to his shirt. “I know when you’re stressed, you aren’t hungry, but you gotta eat more.” He snuggled somewhat further into the hug in answer and smiled against the fabric of Tony’s shirt. Peter sighed softly, his puff blew against the billionaire’s collarbone and the teen hummed as he felt calloused fingers working their way through his curls methodically. “Let’s get you something to eat,” Tony said from above him. He shuffled as the arms around him dropped and he watched lazily as the mechanic stood from the couch and lifted his chin, motioning toward the door. “Come on, you’re too scrawny, I’m getting you food,” Tony insisted. Peter stood from the couch.

 

The familiar feeling that he had grown used to by now settled around him like a blanket as the slur of Tony’s words hazed together until they were a mere ringing in his ears. The edges of his vision grew darker and fuzzy dots popped in front of his eyes as his head pounded from the skull outwards. He blinked a few times as the darkness continued to eat across just the corners of his vision and began to overcome his entire line of sight. He heard a groan, faintly recognised it came from him, and then soon enough, the only thing he could see was the faded grey of Tony’s shirt floating away as the ground started rising to meet him.

 

\----

 

“Peter!” He sprinted to the teen sprawled on the floor and immediately dropped to his knees, his hands hovered over the boy’s form as his mind raced with every possible solution and answer to the issue. “Kid, you hear me? Wake up!” Peter’s eyes scrunched, and he groaned for a second time as Tony lifted his head gently and moved it into his lap. “What the fuck, _what the fuck_ …” he mumbled to himself as he repositioned Peter’s body further into his lap and brushed a thumb over his cheek to hopefully encourage and speed up his slow trek back to consciousness. His eyes flickered open and hazel-brown irises were staring up into Tony’s face. The sudden rush of pure relief and the accompanying drop of adrenaline had the mechanic immediately launching into feverish rambling. “Jesus, Pete… Shit, you can’t just not eat or drink anything then walk three hours on a completely empty tank. You could’ve hit your head on the side of a table or cracked your skull on the floor! If I hadn’t been here, what if you – what if you just never woke up? How do you think that would make me f – how… God kiddo. J – just don’t ever do that again.” 

 

Peter wasn’t fully coherent yet, but he was smart enough to work out for himself how he ended up on the floor. He mumbled an unclear apology before Tony blew out the breath he had been holding since he heard the unmistakeable sound of someone hitting the floor. “You can’t do that to me Pete… I’m too old for that shit now,” he smiled weakly in a poor attempt of using humour to mask how incredibly terrified he had been when he turned to see Peter slumped on the floor, unconscious and unresponsive to the world.

 

“Sorry,” Peter whispered hoarsely, pushing his hands underneath himself to begin slowly sitting up.

 

“Hey, just… go slow,” Tony rested a hand on the teen’s shoulder and braced another on his opposite arm as he pulled him onto his feet. Peter winced, and his eyes screwed shut, “what is it? Are you going to pass out again?” He asked hurriedly with worry staining his tone.

 

“N – no, m’ just… a little stiff. Sorry,” he dropped the wince from his face, but Tony still had the suspicion he was in pain.

 

“Don’t say sorry. I think I should get you home kid. I don’t want you losing anymore sleep because you aren’t in your own bed or anyth –”

 

“No!” Peter almost flinched at the volume of his own voice because it came out so much louder than he meant it to. From the look on Tony’s face, he hadn’t expected that reaction either, and the boy was quick to try and cover it up. “I – I just, I’d sleep better here… I want to stay here, w – with you…” Peter’s hand innocently curled out towards where Tony was still holding his arm for stability, and his smaller fingers wrapped around his hand softly. “I just wanna stay with you, f – for now,” he tightened his grip minutely and looked up at Tony with wide, slightly watery eyes. 

 

How in the hell was he ever supposed to say no to that kid?

 

“Okay, that’s – that sounds like a plan, you wanna stay the night too?” Peter hesitated, twisting his foot from side to side while his head screamed, _‘think about how angry Carter will be when he finds out…’_ Tony picked up on his reluctance and squeezed his arm gently, getting his attention. “I’ll call May and the school while you sleep and eat buddy, that’s all you need right now.”

 

“O – okay, thank you.” Peter looked down at the ground while Tony’s steered him out of the lab and into the spare room that he always used when he stayed overnight. The hands on his shoulder and upper back felt steadying as they guided him carefully under the covers after helping him kick his shoes off. The sheets were cool against his flushed skin, and as he slid further underneath them, wiggling his now shoeless toes around comfortably, he could smell the same brand of laundry detergent and fabric softener that always lingered on Tony’s clothes. The mechanic pushed away the extra pillows and put one behind Peter’s head, running a thumb over his hairline to both brush away the stray curls and to encourage him to lean back against the soft pillowing.

 

“I’m getting you something from the kitchen to eat, just take it easy, okay?” The thumb pulled away and Peter could feel as Tony’s weight shifted off the bed.

 

“M’kay,” he rolled onto his side, so he was facing the billionaire, “thank you.” He murmured lightly, blinking up at Tony as he dimmed the lights and leant against the doorframe casually.

 

“Anytime kiddo,” he gave a half-grin and pulled the door almost shut with one finger before walking to the kitchen and rummaging through the cupboards for something quick and easy. His priority was getting food and water into Peter, he could actually take the time to make a full meal for lunch and dinner later, but sleep was what would get the boy functioning properly.

 

He pulled a can of soup from the depths of the cupboard and checked the expiration date before pouring it into a pot and stirring idly between adding his own herbs and spices to make the sad meal slightly more palatable for the teen. He transferred the soup into a bowl and wrapped the underside of it in a cloth, so there was no way it could warm enough to burn, before filling a glass with water and heading back to the boy’s room.

 

Tony made sure to knock softly before toeing open the door, he smiled when Peter’s face had softened in sleep and his dark eyelashes rested against his cheeks. He put the bowl on a small table and crouched down so he wasn’t towering over the bed. “Hey Pete? Time to get some food into you now,” the teen’s hands were tucked under his chin and his nose scrunched imperceptibly before he nuzzled it further into the pillow. Tony huffed a soft laugh and rubbed his fingers along the nape of his neck to rouse him, but even in sleep he turned into the touch and smiled dopily. “C’mon kiddie, soup for the soul or whatever the hell people go on about,” he twirled a loose curl around his finger and waited patiently as Peter stirred slowly.

 

“Mm, what ‘bout soup?” The teen cracked an eye open, smiled, then blinked both of them so he was staring at Tony with a still mildly sleep-dazed look in his eyes. Tony lifted the bowl carefully and stacked an additional pillow, so Peter could sit up better. “Smells good,” he sighed as he swirled the spoon around the lip of the bowl and simpered gratefully.

 

“It’s just meant to tide you over until I can get something bigger for lunch and dinner,” Tony fiddled with a string of thread from the sheets and let Peter lean into his side slightly as he worked through the soup happily. Every few minutes he would flash an appreciative smile and murmur his thanks, which Tony waved off each time, assuring the kid that he didn’t mind and that he didn’t need to thank him. “You should get some more sleep, I’ll wake you up for lunch and we can go from there, you still need to rest tonight though.” Peter nodded contentedly and snuggled back under the sheets, letting Tony push aside the extra pillow and pull the door halfway closed before walking down the hall to call May and the school to let them know.

 

\----

 

“He’s been… off for awhile Tony. I’ve been keeping a closer eye on him when we get time in the weekends, but he’s acting so withdrawn lately. I’m getting worried about him.” Tony sighed into the receiver and rubbed the side of his face with a hand tiredly.

 

“I know, it’s the same on my end. Do you think this could have anything to do with why he’s been going out so much during the week?” There was a drawn-out silence before May answered him.

 

“To my knowledge he hasn’t been… Carter always says that he’s holed up in his room all day, where’d you get that idea from?” He blinked and thought back to every time he had dropped by to see the kid over the weeks and each time he had been out with a friend or staying the night somewhere.

 

“Uh, I just thought that he had been…” he trailed off and frowned at his feet, kicking a stray bolt across the workshop and listening as it skittered across the floor and rolled to a stop a few feet away. “You know what, why don’t we just talk to him tomorrow night, maybe after dinner or something. We need to get all these answers from him, and I’m certain it’d be easier if we made sure he was more comfortable, well-rested and all that.” May verbalised her approval and agreeance while he danced his fingers across the work bench and flicked away some of the dust that had gathered over old sheets of paper he had abandoned. “He told me about Ben today…”

 

“Oh,” May said sadly, keeping her voice soft to wind around the pressure of the solemn admittance. “I’m sorry I never said anything about that, he was a mess, he didn’t want you to know.”

 

“Yeah, he told me he was afraid I’d hate him…” He dragged a finger along the handle of a welder’s torch, feeling the bumps and divots of the hand-hold while he remembered Peter sobbing into his chest. “I could never hate him, I don’t think he knows that though,” May was quiet as he thought, but right before he filled the silence with meaningless words, she spoke up again.

 

“I think he knows deep-down, just too afraid to admit it to himself, he looks up to you. I told him it wasn’t his fault, but I think he internalised it too much. He still blames himself, but he won’t talk about it, he bottles his feelings and hides them all away from me because he feels so guilty.” It was May’s turn to sigh into the phone before picking up a thin blanket of optimism and draping it over the situation. “He’ll be okay, we’ll sit down and talk to him about everything. He’s got to know that both of us are here for him regardless of whether he thinks the problem is his fault or not.”

 

“Exactly, and we’ll start to communicate better too.” May hummed curiously and he explained cautiously, “when he came here this morning and told me about Ben, he admitted he hadn’t been sleeping well, or really at all. He said he’d been having nightmares about it, this morning I think, from what he said, it sounded like he had a panic attack.”

 

“He used to get those… I just didn’t think he was still getting the nightmares that bad though. You think he should sleep in tomorrow, I’ll call the school?” Tony nodded before realising the woman couldn’t see him.

 

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll get some more food into him and make sure he sleeps better tonight, then we can talk tomorrow night after dinner.” He heard a rustling and thought May had nodded much like him.

 

“He hasn’t kept much from you… just about Ben, that’s really the only bad thing.” He quirked his head to the side in question and took a beat before speaking.

 

“What do you mean ‘hasn’t kept _much_ ,’ what else is he keeping from me?” Tony didn’t know it, but from the other end of the call, May was smiling to herself.

 

“I’m not supposed to say anything, you can dig that out of him yourself,” her tone was light and humorous, Tony rolled his eyes and huffed his own laugh.

 

“Okay, super funny. I’m making lunch now, talk tomorrow.” May said goodbye and he worried absently at his lower lip and started on the food. He made steak sandwiches, Peter needed some protein. Tony poured two glasses of orange juice and left everything on the counter while he moved to wake the boy up. He wrapped his knuckles on the door and pushed it open to find Peter, once again, fast asleep. “Hey kiddo, time to get up and have lunch,” the blankets rustled, and he could see the outlines of Peter’s legs shifting as he rolled over completely until his forehead was rested against Tony’s side and his hand was clutching onto the fabric of his shirt.

 

“Than’s ‘ony,” he slurred as his eyes opened into small slivers. The genius just smiled and ruffled Peter’s hair fondly before standing once the hand had detached from his shirt.

 

“C’mon, they’ll go soggy if you don’t get up now,” he walked to the kitchen while a still mildly delirious and sleep-deprived Peter trailed after him, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “It’s not too fancy, I think you already know I’m not exactly the best cook, but you gotta get something into you.” He watched Peter as he slid into one of the stools before sitting a seat over from him, close enough that their elbows brushed ever so lightly as they ate. “You still feeling tired?” He asked as he loaded the plates into the dishwasher and closed it with his ankle.

 

“Uh, not really,” his feet swung back and forth underneath the stool, only just managing to scrape the floor at his height. “We could get started on those new designs you were talking about the other day, I – if you’re free?” Tony leant against the counter and picked a small crumb off the front of Peter’s shirt with a small smile tugging at the edge of his lip.

 

“Always free for you kid, let’s head.” He pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge for the boy and once they had dug into the new project, he slid it across the bench and nodded his head towards it. “Drink, it’ll help with the head spins,” Peter twisted the cap and drank some before huddling down and furrowing his brow as he tapped his pencil against a notebook and scribbled various calculations down. “Don’t exert too much energy into getting any smarter than me.” Peter grinned lopsidedly and flicked a piece of eraser dust at him immaturely.

 

“As if I could ever be smarter, didn’t you invent a new element?” Tony smirked and fiddled with a screwdriver distractedly.

 

“That I did, but it’s not to say you’re never gonna end up doing something like that.” Peter scoffed slightly but didn’t make an attempt to argue. Two people with the same gene of stubbornness? Doesn’t end well, to say the least.

 

\----

 

“Nope, not doing that tonight, as much as I’d love to bud, come on.” Tony prodded the side of Peter’s head and tapped his nose until his eyes opened.

 

“Hm?” He was slumped against Tony’s shoulder, his cheek rested lazily against the mechanic’s collarbone and the boy’s arm was wrapped loosely around Tony’s elbow.

 

“I’m just gonna walk you to the bedroom so you can sleep properly. Just walk with me and try not to fall on your face again,” he tugged Peter to his feet and piloted him to the spare room with two hands on his upper arms. He knitted his brows together when he saw Peter wince as he rolled into bed lethargically.

 

“That was one time,” the boy grumbled as he settled under the covers once again.

 

“Yeah, one time less than eight hours ago Pete.” He rolled his eyes fondly and folded the blankets up higher, so they were tucked around the teen’s shoulders to keep him warm. “I’m not gonna go that far, just call out if you need me and… and at least tell me if you have another nightmare, okay?” He hovered at the door for a moment, waiting for an affirmative from the kid.

 

“Okay… Tony?” He hummed and could see Peter fidgeting nervously, even under the covers. “Th – thank you, seriously – I really appreciate you.” He paused, realised what he had said and rectified it before he even looked at Tony’s face. “Uh, _this_ – I really appreciate all of _this_.”

 

“It’s okay kid, I don’t want you to feel like you need to thank me, I just want you to be happy.” Peter smiled and tucked his face slightly further under the covers, but Tony knew him well enough to recognise the soft, pastel flush that rose on his cheeks as he burrowed his face under a pillow and mumbled a goodnight. Tony smiled to himself as he pulled the door closed, “yeah, yeah, night kiddo.” He sighed breathily and leant his forehead against the wall when the door was almost closed. He wandered back into the workshop and read over the notes the boy had been scribbling, his smile broadened without his permission and May’s words rang in his head.

 

‘He looks up to you.’

 

He could remember Peter’s wide eyes staring up at the starry ceiling, the projection reflecting in his irises and tinting the mirror image a sepia filtered, hazel tone. Then, he could see them as they tilted to meet his eyes, and true to May’s words, the kid looked up to Tony like he had hung those stars. Which technically he had, but Peter treated it as if he had practically crafted everything amazing in the galaxy and handed it to him in a gift-wrapped box.

 

‘Mister Stark… this is – this is amazing, I – thank you, thank you so much.’

 

Tony Stark might’ve had a son, he may have waited a few hours for the boy to fully fall asleep before meandering into the spare room and combing his fingers through those soft curls, but that was nobody’s business except his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah I figured I should say, I got Tumblr not so long ago ~ It's agib_2002 ~ congrats because now I'm sure you can probably work out how old I am :/
> 
> I post on there - it's all Marvel (especially irondad)
> 
> <3


	4. Tuesday Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony, May and Peter might have had Tuesday night to themselves for movie night, but they still need to have dinner with Carter, and somebody needs to pick up takeout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually quite pleased with how this chapter came out :)
> 
> PLEASE NOTE: there is a short scene with some cat-callers and they say some kinda crude stuff - that's all that happens but it's better to warn you all to stay on the safe side in case that may trigger anything. <3
> 
> I LOVE ALL YOUR COMMENTS!
> 
> Seriously - if I read a comment I blush more that Peter does this chapter
> 
> <3 Enjoy <3

“Morning sleepy,” Tony smiled into his coffee mug as Peter slid into the chair next to him and rested his forehead against the countertop tiredly. The kid’s bedhead was insane, his curls were kinked and wild, splayed out across his head like an adorable halo. “I’m guessing you slept well then?” Peter made a noise that sounded like both a hum and a yawn in reply. “Jeez, you really are sleepy, aren’t you?” He reached over and ran his fingers through the matted curls, containing his smile when Peter rolled into the touch happily. “So, when are the rest of the dwarves coming over?”

 

“Hm?” The teen turned so his cheek was squashed against the bench and he could open an eye and raise an eyebrow at Tony curiously.

 

“Seven dwarves, you’re Sleepy, it’s a Disney reference kid.” Peter nodded slowly, recognition dawning in his still sleep-glazed eyes.

 

“Oh, mhm, what’s that make you then?” He sat up and twisted a finger into the handle of Tony’s coffee mug, which had been sitting, empty, on the bench. “Probably Doc right, cus you’re so smart?”

 

“We still on about that huh?” He stood with the smile still playing at his lips as he pulled a packet from the top of the cupboard. “Okay, two things,” he set the packet down in front of Peter and leant on his elbows, “what do you think about that, and, I officially change your dwarf name to bashful.” The teen read the packet, it was a pre-made box of pancake batter, all they needed was an egg and milk.

 

“I think it looks great, I’ll help if you want,” he beamed up at Tony who was cutting the bag open with scissors and pouring it into a bowl. “Wait, why am I bashful?” He narrowed his eyes and fiddled with the empty packet while Tony hummed.

 

“Y’know Pete…” he pulled an egg from the fridge and cracked it messily with one hand as he spoke, “your bedhead curls are very cute.”

 

“I – they – they’re c – cute? I, um…” he ran his hands through his hair in a fruitless attempt to un-muss them and wrangle the curls into place. A pink tint coloured his cheeks and spread across his nose which Tony poked with the back of a spoon.

 

“See?” He pointed out, as if Peter knew what he was going on about, “you’re blushing now, it’s bashful.” The mechanic set the spoon down and smiled at the boy with a look that said _‘I’m right, and you know it.’_

 

“I… why are you always right?” Peter complained, but there was no denying the smile that was spreading across his face too. He stood up and Tony slid the bowl over to him, his heart fluttering when Peter didn’t tense up as the bowl drifted into his hands. The teen merely picked up a spoon and began stirring, stepping fully around the edge of the counter so he was stood next to Tony. “Um… Mister Stark?” He froze for a moment from where he was measuring the milk and put it down beside him, swivelling to fully face Peter who stopped stirring for a moment.

 

“Kid?” He squinted, wordlessly trying to figure out what the sudden name switch was all about.

 

“I – uh… s – sorry, must be r – really tired, I meant to say T – Tony then.” He rubbed the back of his neck and then proceeded to fidget with his hands nervously. “Tony?”

 

“Yeah kiddo, what’s up?” He reached up and twirled a stray curl around one finger, sensing Peter needed the contact to help him get whatever question he was trying to ask out.

 

“Did you… did you really mean it, w – when you said you enjoyed the calls?” Tony picked the measuring cup of milk back up and slowly began to pour it into the bowl.

 

“Yeah buddy, I really did,” he gave Peter a smile and ruffled his hair fondly, nudging the spoon back into his hand to prompt him to start stirring the mixture again. “I think we should keep that up,” he said casually, putting a pan on the stove and pressing some buttons to pull it up to the right heat. “The calls I mean,” he continued, pulling butter out of the fridge and cutting some small pieces up to grease the pan.

 

“That wouldn’t… p – put you out or anything?” Peter asked hesitantly, moving the batter next to the pan.

 

“Nope,” Tony assured, popping the ‘p’ in emphasis. “Kid, when it comes to you and having issues, it’s better if you just talk them out, gimme a call. Because when you try and bottle stuff, it all builds up,” he turned to face Peter, tapping his forehead knowingly, “and that’s when you end up walking three hours, passing out in my lab and giving me a heart attack.” The teen shuffled awkwardly, opening his mouth to, presumably, apologise for the hundredth time. “Before you say anything,” Tony protested, dropping a hand to his shoulder and looking at him sincerely, “know that you don’t need to say sorry, and that it’s just something to know for next time.” He shrugged calmly and leant around Peter to pour some of the mixture onto the pan, which was now very hot.

 

“N – next time?” The boy asked softly, looking up through his lashes at Tony while he slid the edge of the spatula under the goldening pancake.

 

“Well, yeah. I just figured, next time there’s something you want to talk about, or you’re having issues with… just talk to me,” he shot a sideways glance at Peter while he flipped the pancake. There was something in that glance, a way that Tony’s lip twitched, a particular flicker in his eyes that seemed to be urging him to do something, say something.

 

“I… d – do you… what are you saying?” He hummed idly, slipping the pancake onto a plate and covering it with tinfoil to keep the warmth while Peter played with the sleeves of his hoodie.

 

“So, interesting story, I had a chat with May yesterday…” the teen looked up at him with huge doe eyes, it made him look almost more vulnerable then he must have already felt. “She mentioned that maybe there was something you might wanna tell me?” 

 

_Oh god, he knew, he knew, heknowsheknows, heknowsaboutCarter…_

 

“Uhm, I – I don’t… m’ not sure, s – sorry.” His fidgeting had increased, and Peter had never been the best at keeping things hidden, there were multiple occasions when the kid had spilled good news to him days in advance. When he got a scholarship to Midtown School of Science and Technology, Tony knew about it early, when he won an award, Tony knew early, history repeated itself and now it was mildly concerning that Peter was beginning to make a habit of bottling things up.

 

“May seemed to hint it wasn’t a bad thing? She implied it was something good, don’t leave me hanging kiddo,” he smiled lightly, flipping the last pancake onto a plate and putting them down on the bench after turning the oven off.

 

“Oh, a – a good thing? Uh, I – I don’t really… know what she mea –”

 

“C’mon kid, what’d ya do, win another science fair, ace a pop quiz, come top in –” Peter’s phone buzzed from beside them and the teen startled, jumping back and into the counter. “Careful ki –” He was cut off when Peter yelped before covering his mouth and faking a cough as he rubbed his side gingerly. “Hey Peter, you good?” He moved forward to steady the boy, but he stepped backwards, closer to his still buzzing phone but further away from Tony.

 

_He knows about Carter, he knows you lied, he hates you, you betrayed him, you let someone hurt you and you lied about it._

 

“S – s – sorry, I uh, I – I need to…” he glanced down at his phone and Ned’s contact photo was lighting up the screen.

 

“Yeah, hey no, that’s cool.” They stared at each other for a minute before Tony nodded to the phone, “take it kid, seriously it’s fine.” He could see as Peter swallowed thickly, then he was snatching up the phone and hitting answer as he walked around the corner, shoving shaking hands away from Tony’s sight and into his pockets.

 

\----

 

“Peter, where have you been?” He winced as Ned’s voice came out loud through the speaker, Peter adjusted the volume and held the phone against his ear.

 

“Oh, school, y – yeah listen, I’m sorry I didn’t text to say I wasn’t gonna be there yesterday or toda –”

 

“No, it’s cool man, I don’t care about that, I was just kinda worried about you.” Peter frowned in confusion and checked to see if Tony was still in the kitchen before he rubbed his side and winced painfully at his aggravated bruises. “I was gonna borrow your gym top and show coach, so I could say it shrunk in the wash, cus then he’d let me go study for a period…” Peter bit his lip and leant his forehead against a doorframe, knowing exactly what Ned was about to say. “I got it from your locker and there was like… there was like a stain on the inside.” He screwed his face up and bit the side of his thumb nervously, “Peter, was that – it looked like blood?”

 

_Carter’s hands shoving him forward, his feet catching on the rug so he tumbled towards the ground, the edge of the coffee table tearing an angry gash over his side. Blood._

 

“Ned look, I – I know it kinda seems weird b – but May was washing and she, uh, she –” he fumbled with his words, chewing the inside of his cheek as his mind ran in circles. _What looks like blood? What looks like blood? What looks like blood?_

 

“Peter?”

 

“May l – left lipstick in her pants and when they went through the dryer it – it melted over the inside of my shirt, it, uh, it stained even after I w – washed it out.” There was a long pause that was filled with Peter silently begging Ned to take the excuse while simultaneously hating himself for thickening the blanket of lies he had begun spreading ever since Carter had stepped into his life.

 

“May doesn’t wear lipstick,” Ned pointed out matter-of-factly.

 

“N – no, she didn’t, but uh… h – her boyfriend got her some,” he whispered, tears prickling behind his eyes. He felt sick calling Carter ‘May’s boyfriend.’ He didn’t want to think about him at all, he didn’t want to give the man any sort of role in their lives, he didn’t want the person abusing him to have a new label. Because then the label stuck to him too.

 

Peter was being beaten by ‘May’s boyfriend.’

 

“May has a boyfriend? When did that happen?” Ned didn’t sound accusatory or worried anymore, he sounded genuinely curious.

 

“Uh, y – yeah, a while back. H – his name’s Carter,” he muttered, barely audible as his throat constricted.

 

_I don’t wanna talk about him, I don’t wanna talk about him._

 

“Oh, is he cool at least?” The silent pause following Ned’s question seemed to be answer enough. “I’m sorry Peter, I know that must be… weird adjusting to, you can always come over to my place if he’s staying the night or you just wanna get time out of the apartm –”

 

“He stays the night every night Ned, he – he moved in ages ago.” Peter furiously wiped the tears that were threatening to spill and berated himself for acting so stupid. He _knew_ that this was his life now, Carter had moved in a long time ago and it shouldn’t be making him this upset, but it was, and that’s what he hated most.

 

He felt like he was crying like a child.

 

“That… that was fast I guess?” There was a lull in the conversation and Peter felt like throwing up and sinking into the wall. “It’s not like he’s gonna replace Tony or anything.” Ned’s statement caught him off guard and he sucked in a confused breath.

 

“What do you mean replace?”

 

“Just, I mean like… you always talk about Tony and you two are really close and all that, he’s – well you’ve never said it but he’s kinda like a Dad to you already.” Peter choked on air and slipped his face from the wall hurriedly.

 

“W – what, no? I never – he’s not… w – w – what do you mean he’s like a D –”

 

“Peter you’re so see-through man,” Ned chuckled and somehow, it made him feel better. “Him and May totally co-parent you,” Ned was laughing now, and Peter was smiling too.

 

“Ew Ned, gross, I don’t wanna picture… that.”

 

“Oh, ew no, no, no, gross Peter, I don’t mean like Mister Stark and May, blargh. I mean like they totally tag-team parent you.” There was another pause, but it didn’t feel crippling like the last one, it was easy, like the suspension before the joke was made. “Okay that made it sound even worse – but you get what I mean!”

 

“Ned that’s gross! Don’t ever use that in a sentence again, ever.” He giggled, and he could hear Ned’s laughter coming through the speaker. “I mean, I get what you’re saying but… I just, it’s not like I could say it… I – I think May blabbed on me though.”

 

“Oh, about that ‘father-figure’ thing you said when you were lik –”

 

“Ned, shh! He’s like two rooms over,” he hissed quietly, rolling his eyes when all Ned did was laugh even louder.

 

“Ugh, you’re so weird man. Okay, I gotta go to English or I’ll need a hall pass to get there, talk later!” He said goodbye and pocketed his phone, sighing to himself and wandering back into the kitchen where Tony was finishing the last of his plate and scrolling through his phone.

 

“Hey kid,” he said, glancing up at him and pushing his plate over. “Eat, we leave in a couple hours for your place.” Peter sat next to him and started chewing, he knew they tasted good, he had eaten pre-mixed pancakes before, but his tongue was only registering cardboard flavour when he could see Tony eyeing him cautiously, analytically. “You okay? How’s your side?”

 

“It, uh y – yeah, it’s fine. I was – I just didn’t except th – the phone to ring.” 

 

_I thought you knew about Carter, I thought you were going to push me away, I thought you’d hate me._

 

“Pete, you’re a good kid,” his hand slipped to the nape of the teen’s neck and he squeezed reassuringly. “But you gotta work on not being so high-strung all the time, you’re too jumpy for your own good,” he moved his hand to momentarily ruffle the kid’s hair before he was placing Peter’s dish into the sink for later and pushing him off to the bathroom. “Leaving in just over an hour,” he called out before rubbing his face and making a second cup of coffee.

 

\----

 

“Hey sweetie,” Tony watched as Peter let May pull him into a hug, his chin dropped to her shoulder almost immediately, and it was more obvious from an outsider’s point of view, but he could clearly see the way Peter’s shoulders slumped as he relaxed in her arms. He made a mental note to allow himself to be more affectionate with the kid from now on, seeing as physical comfort seemed to unwind his tenseness. “How was spending the night at Tony’s, you didn’t just eat pizza?” May’s fingers ran up into the front of Peter’s hair, pushing it back from his forehead as she leant back to fully look at him.

 

“N – no, we had normal stuff,” the boy looked back at him and he shot a kind smile just to see the way his lips curled upward in response. “Tony makes good sandwiches,” he smiled wider as Peter’s high praise warmed his chest.

 

“Well I don’t like the idea of private chefs and there’s always too much bread lying around.” He stepped closer to the two and felt Peter’s elbow brushing his own lightly, “we had a big brunch, so I’ll grab Thai for dinner, as a thanks for letting me hang around for movie night.” Tony bumped the teen’s hand and smiled as he pulled his own cell out and dialled the regular place he knew the small family used. “We want sticky rice pudding people?” He held a hand over the receiver and raised his eyebrows in question.

 

“I – I don’t mind either wa –”

 

“I think skipping school isn’t exactly deserving of sticky rice pudding.” If Tony hadn’t stepped away to make the phone call, he would have felt Peter tensing up and flinching on instinct as Carter walked into the living room, rubbing the back of his head with a towel to dry it as if he had only just gotten out of the shower. Apart from his wet hair, he looked put together, and he leant over to press a kiss to May’s forehead. “Morning,” he said to her sweetly, Peter wanted to hide away in his room almost as much as he wanted to cry.

 

“Its almost four-thirty in the afternoon,” Tony said, not coldly, but not far from it either. “Peter wasn’t skipping, we called the school to let them know he would be there, so it wasn’t skipping, it was taking a day off.” Carter looked like he wanted to argue, but Tony turned back to the phone and listed off the order he knew off by heart by now, paused for a moment, then looked to May and Peter. “They want to know if we’re having anything else,” he said pointedly, deliberately not glancing at Carter who was gripping the towel tighter.

 

“Well, honey,” May turned to Carter, “I think because we never got a chance to have a dinner as reward for Pete winning the science fair, maybe we should grab some just for tonight.”

 

_He’s going to hurt me, he’s going to hurt me so much I’ll just throw it all up again anyway._

 

For a moment, Peter felt the desperate need to squeeze his eyes shut as he waited for Carter to either start yelling, hitting him or arguing more. He bit back a surprised squeak when the man smiled almost lightly and nodded with May in agreeance.

 

“Yeah, that’s only fair,” he rubbed May’s shoulder warmly and watched as Tony finished the order, complete with the sticky rice pudding, and put the phone back in his pocket. He looks almost wary, his eyes flicked to Peter’s face and his unease melted, stepping to his side once more, unconsciously putting himself between the boy and everyone else in the room.

 

“They said it’d be ready for pickup between five and five thirty, you wanna walk with me to pick it up kid?” Peter smiled softly and opened his mouth to answer, but Carter was moving forward in front of him, bringing the four of them in an almost-circle, May opposite Tony and beside Carter, who was now standing across from Peter.

 

“Actually, I was thinking I could walk with the kid to get it, I’m not staying for the movie, I have work.” He rocked on his feet calmly while Peter was internally shutting down, his mind screaming to clutch Tony’s wrist for comfort but his body staying frozen in fear at the suggestion. “Just thought it’d be good to stretch my legs before I have to sit in a chair for hours.”

 

“I thought you said you were working?” Tony looked to May, but she was smiling to Peter happily, glad to see that Carter was at least making an effort to spend time with him. “What is it that you do again?” He asked sceptically, not wanting anyone to take time away from him and Peter but trying to stay calm because rationally he knew it was less than a fifteen-minute walk.

 

“Security, night shifts, all I have to do is sit in a chair and watch the cams for anything, so yeah, sitting for hours _is_ my job.” Carter’s façade of niceties was being broken down by Tony’s unrelenting paranoia, but little did he know it was fully justified.

 

“Right, well it’s not up to us,” his hand found the back of Peter’s neck once more and he circled his fingers lazily along the teen’s shoulders comfortingly. Carter’s eyes drifted to the hand and while Peter caught the warning behind the gaze that reminded him of what happened when he spent time with Tony, the mechanic himself was preoccupied looking down at the boy to check in.

 

“Oh, for crying out loud we still have half an hour, let’s at least sit and get drinks sorted.” May turned, ever the peacemaker, and walked to the kitchen, pulling glasses out of a cupboard and nodding her head for everyone to follow. Tony and Carter hesitated for the briefest of moments, the almost unnoticeable tension unpacking for a moment before Peter’s foot shifted awkwardly and it seemed to snap them out of it.

 

“Sounds great,” Carter called to May as the three moved to join her at the table. “We went shopping this morning, while you were out playing hooky,” he threw over his shoulder, grinning in a way that made Peter think he _knew_ he was pushing Tony’s buttons. “May found some new stuff she’d love you to try with her, and I got myself something I’m sure a man like you would appreciate,” his gaze fell on Tony and Peter felt his heart stuttering.

 

Logically, he knew Carter wasn’t reckless or rage-driven enough to ever try anything in front of May or Tony, but the thought of Carter willingly offering the billionaire something made his chest burn with anxiety and the familiar pressing weight. He watched the man pulling two bottles out of the fridge and setting them at the table, they were brown-tinted glass and all the labels had been peeled off. The missing labels made Peter’s mind flick back to all the ‘Stranger Danger’ talks he had been given at school, and one of the things the teachers had always said was ‘ _don’t accept food or drink from someone if it’s been opened or the original packaging is missing_.’

 

“Why’d you peel the labelling off?” Tony was a genius, and Peter almost cried at the relief when he remembered how perceptive the man was, but he shoved the feeling down and let out a shaky sigh which hopefully went unnoticed.

 

“I didn’t, it’s a buddy’s from work, he does home-brewing as a hobby. Real piece of work, drunk half the time, I’m surprised he hasn’t been fired yet.” Peter could feel Tony’s hand on his shoulder tightening minutely in protection, he leant into it slightly. “Regardless, he makes a few good ones, but this is the best,” he leant over and put a bottle in the hand that wasn’t on Peter’s shoulder, smirking at Tony. “He ups the APV so that right there,” he tapped the bottle proudly, “is equivalent of about three standard drinks.”

 

Peter can see Tony’s jaw clenching as he put the bottle back down on the table, a look of disinterest on his face which made Peter think back to all the times Carter had looked at him in disgust when he babbled about the projects he worked on in the workshop.

 

“Thanks, but I’m driving home,” Tony pressed tightly, eyeing the way Carter was raising an eyebrow and popping the cap of his own drink with a hiss.

 

“Couldn’t you just call yourself a suit,” Carter scoffed, his lip beginning to curl upward in a way that was edging towards what Peter recognised as a sneer. He was eyeing the watch on Tony’s wrist; the display was light blue and similar to the one he had crushed under his fist on Peter’s fourteenth birthday.

 

“If I wanted to, I could have a suit here in less than ten minutes,” Tony bit, his free hand lifting up to Peter’s opposite elbow to gently guide him across the kitchen towards May while he fixed Carter with a glower that scratched the surface of what Peter imagined after almost every beating.

 

_The familiar flash of red and gold kicking down his door and ripping Carter off him before Tony stepped out of the suit and pulled him close comfortingly._

 

“May?” He asked tentatively, shuffling forward but not enough that Tony’s protective hand fell away from his shoulder. She turned to him and her eyes twinkled as her lips grew to another knowing smile when she saw Tony’s hand resting on his arm, he fought the blush that crept from his ears down towards his cheeks. “Uh, d – did you go to that special health store w – with the fancy juices?” She smiled wider at him and tilted two bottles of name-brand juice that she had always wanted to try towards him.

 

“You should’ve seen them all, there were full aisles stocked with just these, there were so many colours!” She beamed and ran a finger under his chin affectionately, he grinned back at her. May was so happy, her job and Carter’s income were having an impact on their groceries, the heater was on more, he hadn’t seen watered down soap in months. “Okay, peach, guava and kiwifruit, or apple, mango and blackcurrant?” He looked at the two bottles and pointed to the pinkish hued one.

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever had guava before,” he said quietly, reaching out for the glass with a smile despite the churning feeling in his stomach.

 

He didn’t dislike it when May was happy as she was able to spend more money on higher quality items, it validated him in a way, it made him feel like he was doing the right thing by taking Carter’s abuse. But on the other end of the scale, it just further emphasised how he had to continue taking the abuse, because without it, May wouldn’t be this happy. It was bittersweet and tilting towards bitter each time he was shoved against a wall or slammed against his desk.

 

He took a small sip and nodded gratefully, “it’s really nice May, thank you.” She smiled and petted his cheek appreciatively.

 

“Always good manners, so sweet,” she cooed, watching him smile at his feet shyly. “You wanna put these on the table for Tony and I, then maybe take this one to –” She leaned past him and Tony to see Carter on the couch in the living room, sipping his drink and watching T.V, he noticed her brow twitch and he wondered if she were bothered by his behaviour. “You mind taking the last one over to him?” He nodded meekly, taking two glasses and setting them at the table before picking up the last one and trying not to start visibly trembling when Tony’s comforting hand dropped from his shoulder and he realised he needed to walk the drink over to Carter by himself. “Thanks honey,” May called from behind him, he blew a breath and told himself the man wasn’t going to do anything when Tony and May had clear vision of them both.

 

“Uh, M – May said to give th – this to you…” he said faintly, putting the glass down on the coffee table in front of Carter.

 

“Tell Tony you want to pick the food up with me, unless you want me to _accidentally_ crack his watch too.” His eyes stayed forward on the T.V screen, he didn’t even glance up at Peter when he leant over to set the drink down. The man’s voice was low, so low that there was no chance anyone but them could have heard what he said, and his lips didn’t move so obviously either, he spoke right before the beer bottle was brought to his lips, the perfect way to cover the fact that he had even said a word in the first place. “Thanks Pete!” He said at a volume slightly over normal, making sure May and Tony heard and saw the smile on his face. 

 

Cracking Tony’s watch might have sounded like a heatless threat, considering the man was a billionaire and could probably upgrade the thing at the wave of a hand, but that night had been so much more than just a broken watch to him.

 

It was the all-consuming fear that had made him cower away submissively, it was the first time he had to wear long sleeves to hide the hand and nail marks that had marred his skin. He still remembered the gut-wrenching terror as a palm clapped over his face to roughly silence his sobs and whimpers. He could not and would not, let Tony experience even a fraction of the things he dealt with, not when he had already done so much for him. 

 

The mechanic had picked up every late-night call after a beating, had run a ginger, concerned hand over every injury he hadn’t been able to hide, he soothed the panic attack, he cooked, and he let down his walls and gave him someone to cling onto. There was no universe in which Peter would let Tony take even a single shove if he could prevent it in any way, so he would relent and do what Carter wanted if it meant Tony was safe.

 

He barely contained a yelp as Carter patted his arm as if in appreciation, but to Peter, it felt more like a deliberate slap on a barely faded bruise that he had dealt the boy several days ago. “If you really want to take a walk with Stark, maybe May can take your punishment while you’re out.” His eyes prickled, and he could feel the last remainder of his blush fading away as the rest of the colour in his face drained. He wanted to scream that no, _no he wouldn’t walk with Tony. No May wouldn’t be hurt because of him,_ but Peter’s breath caught on an airy inhale of fright and he momentarily froze before he forced his legs to move away from the threat and back into the shelter of the kitchen, where May and Tony were still standing, leant against the bench.

 

The bench his head had been slammed on and body thrown against multiple times.

 

May’s left arm rested over the spot where Peter was sure he had once wiped away his own blood stain before.

 

“You okay kiddo?” Tony asked, concern radiating through his voice and curling towards Peter in tendrils he desperately wanted to hide away in. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out and he felt his throat constricting as he struggled to process any words to use. “Hey,” Tony said softly, putting his glass down on the bench behind him and reaching his arm out to brush Peter’s shoulder, “why don’t we go take a look at those homework questions you were telling me about earlier?” At first, Peter blanked, he hadn’t talked to Tony about any questions today, he didn’t even have homework.

 

While Tony gently ushered him out of the kitchen and back into the living room, towards the hallway to his room, it did click. He had recognised the obvious distress in Peter’s face and he was creating an out, a small excuse for them to step back and take a breather.

 

They walked past the couch and once Tony was past the doorway, Peter looked up to see Carter tapping his wrist implicitly, a tiny smirk on his face that made Peter swallow dryly and stumble forward past the doorframe, so he couldn’t even see the man anymore. He bumbled down the hall and reached out, clutching Tony’s hand on instinct and tugging the man into his room before shutting the door behind them.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I –” He crashed against Tony’s chest and pulled his arms around his waist as the mechanic began to rub his shoulders and back gently. “M’ sorry, I – I didn’t… I – I didn’t –”

 

“Shh, hey, nothing to apologise for kiddo. Just take a breath and forget everything else for now,” he ran a hand through Peter’s curls and lightly rested his chin atop them while he listened to the boy’s breathing slow from uneven gasps to gulps and finally back down to regular inhales that rose his chest evenly from where it was rested against Tony’s. “You feel like taking a walk?” He asked calmly, still rubbing circles over Peter’s upper back.

 

_Yes, there was nothing more in the world that he wanted right now than to take a walk, away from the apartment, away from Carter, alone with Tony who lifted the weight off him._

 

But the thought of May with a bruised cheek and Tony with nail marks up his arm wasn’t bearable. How could he ever let that happen to them, the two people who were there for him the most, the ones who carded fingers through his hair and traced patterns on his back so that everything felt _okay._

 

“Tony… I – I want to, I – I do,” the mechanic was nodding slowly from where his chin was still rested on Peter’s head. “B – but I just…” he blew out a shaky breath and rested his forehead against Tony’s chest. “M’ just s – scared,” he admitted with a soft mumble.

 

“What are you scared of buddy, I can’t help if I don’t know what’s up, okay?” Tony backed them up to the bed and sat down slowly so Peter could keep his arms wrapped around his torso in search of comfort. He swirled his free hand through the teen’s curls and continued patting his back lightly, he wanted the boy to understand he was there for him, he wanted Peter to know how much he cared about him and in a way, he wanted to tell him the truth.

 

There had always been the fear in his head and heart, he had always watched those brown eyes looking up at him, shining with adoration and shyness as he stumbled over his words but smiled all the same. Tony had always wanted to be closer to Peter, he had always pictured telling him, honestly, how he had met Mary then spent the next four years completely unaware that there was a curly-haired, doe-eyed kid, stumbling around Queens with his blood and his brains. He had always wanted to call the boy _his kid_ and not just think it in his own head, he wanted Peter to know.

 

But what was more important to him, their relationship, or the label of father and son?

 

Tony looked down at the teen pressed against his side, face buried into his chest, he watched his own hand running through the chestnut curls in a motion he had become increasingly familiar with the past few months. He stayed quiet for a few more minutes, content to offer affection for the kid while he conjured up the courage to talk about what was scaring him.

 

“I – I’m scared of you getting hurt,” Peter said quietly. For once he had been honest, but it wouldn’t last long as the white noise of whatever T.V show Carter was watching from the living room filtered into his awareness and he contained a shudder.

 

“Why would I get hurt Pete?” He was keeping his voice even and calm for the kid, but he had no idea what had set him off or what he meant by ‘getting hurt.’ _Was someone threatening him?_

 

“Like Ben,” the boy whispered almost inaudibly. “I’m scared of w – walking to get Thai with you, b – because of what happened last time…”

 

Oh. _Oh._

 

“Aw Pete,” he dropped his chin, so his forehead rested against the crown of the teen’s head and he hugged the kid even closer. “That’s not going to happen buddy, I wouldn’t let that happen,” he promised into the soft curls.

 

“I – I think m – maybe I should… I should just go with Carter.”

 

_You can’t get hurt, you mean too much, and I can’t lose my Dad, not after Ben, not after Richard. Not with May left alone in the apartment with Carter._

 

Tony wrinkled his nose despite himself and bit the inside of his cheek as he watched Peter shuffle awkwardly until he was looking up at him.

 

“Kid, I… I don’t know, you’re already upset, and I can just drive to pick it up with you and… you know Carter’s been drinking,” he brushed a knuckle over Peter’s cheekbone concernedly and dropped his face seriously. “Is he… do you like him?” The teen blanched, his lips parting before closing again while he thought.

 

“I – I… he… he makes May happy,” Tony quirked his brow and Peter sighed, knowing the mechanic wasn’t going to accept his poor attempt to dance around the question. “I don’t know… I don’t know how to feel about him. H – he makes May happy, he doesn’t act like he’s trying to b – be a father, he isn’t… he’s nothing like Ben and – and he’s… nothing like you.” Peter looked down at his lap and Tony could see the pink hue growing on his ears.

 

“Does that upset you?” Tony prompted, letting his hand from Peter’s back drop to his own lap so they were simply sitting beside each other, the teen’s shoulder leant against his side comfortingly.

 

“D – does what upset me?”

 

“That he’s been living with you for over a year now and he isn’t making an effort to get closer to you. Do you want him to act like a father?” Peter continued to look at the floor.

 

“No…” he said honestly.

 

_I’m happy with you filling that gap. I just want you, I don’t want him at all, I just need you to be there._

 

“So, he doesn’t act like a parent, but does he do anything else?” Peter shook his head vehemently, “okay… even when he drinks? He’s never said or done anything that made you uncomfortable at all?” He swallowed through the lump and shook his head again.

 

“H – he doesn’t normally drink, he just… it’s just h – hard to talk to him sometimes, b – because we don’t like the same things or really have a – anything in common.” Peter twitched his hands and stared at them intently as he spoke, “he’s just not as easy t – to talk to as you I guess.” His cheeks were pink now, but the corner of Tony’s mouth curved upwards.

 

“Bashful,” he hummed, twisting to his side so he could let Peter lean into his chest. “Can you take your phone with you please? Carter’s had the equivalent of three beers and I don’t know if he’s a lightweight or not, so just to be on the safe side.” Peter squeezed closer and smiled into Tony’s shoulder even as he heard May calling from the kitchen. “C’mon then squirt, you need to eat, and I need some crappy takeaways, let’s go,” he lets Peter stand from the bed first, watching him for a few seconds to make sure he wasn’t staggering on his feet, before opening the door and walking down the hall. 

 

May and Carter were sat at the table. “I made the order under the name Parker, call me if they messed it up,” he looked to Peter, who was pocketing his phone, and the teen saw the underlying message clearly. _Call me if you need me._

 

“I think we’re fine walking fifteen minutes picking up Chinese,” Carter said, putting his now empty beer bottle aside and walking over to the door, swinging his keys round one finger.

 

“Thai, we ordered Thai.” Tony said without any humour in his voice, eyeing Carter before looking to Peter as his hard gaze softened.

 

“Sure. The drink is still in the fridge if you finally decide to change your mind,” Carter reminded with a chuckle that Peter didn’t register as friendly. Tony fixed the man with an unimpressed look and folded his arms, resisting the urge to bite back or comment on how he had practically drunk three beers before leaving for work. “We’re going Peter,” he said stiffly, beginning to walk down to the elevator without bothering to cast a look back to make sure the boy was following him.

 

He wouldn’t have had to check, Peter would follow him around like a kicked puppy if it meant May and Tony stayed safe.

 

And they _needed_ to stay safe.

 

Peter paused beside him as they waited for the elevator, Carter stayed dead silent, no eye contact, no movement. The doors pinged as they opened, and Peter felt himself tensing up as he thought about being shut in an enclosed space with the man who regularly threatened and beat him. “Hurry up. Move.” Carter said suddenly, jerking his head and watching with narrowed eyes as the teen silently shuffled into the elevator, eyes on the ground as he denied the temptation of jumping back out the doors before they closed and running back into Tony’s arms. The metal slid shut and there was a second ping before they were descending. Peter had pushed himself as far into the corner opposite Carter as possible, and it took him all of two seconds after the elevator doors closed to realise exactly why that was a horrible idea.

 

Carter caged him in, arms coming up to grip the railings on either side of his now trembling body as the man leered down at him, teeth grinding together hatefully as he eyed him up dangerously. “You think crawling to Stark was gonna prevent your punishment huh?” His arms slid down the railings until he was gripping both of Peter’s shoulders with intent to put bruises on top of bruises.

 

The teen couldn’t help the pathetic squeak that escaped his lips, and he hated himself for not bottling his sounds of terror up, because all they ever seemed to do was encourage Carter. “Yeah, well it’s done nothing but make it worse for you, _brat. _” The man’s lips peeled back into a snarl as his fingers dug in excruciatingly over old wounds and his foot shot out to connect with his shin, tugging a pained yelp from Peter in the process.__

__

__A fist drove into his stomach and he wheezed as the air was knocked from his lungs while he curled in on himself and hunched over his torso protectively. Carter only barked a clipped laugh through his bared teeth and used Peter’s bent over form to his advantage as he gripped the chestnut curls and shoved his head back into the mirror on the wall. The sound of the glass warping in warning didn’t help to drown out Peter’s soft, hurt whimper as the elevator slowed to a stop._ _

__

__Carter pushed off him immediately and walked out of the small space, leaving Peter to trail behind him with a slight limp as he visibly tried to calm his too-rapid panting and contain his pained winces as he struggled to keep up with the man._ _

__

__The streets weren’t completely dark out yet, but there were less pedestrians getting home from work and more shady characters lurking in alleys and stomping out pungent cigarettes. “ _Come on,_ ” Carter hissed aggressively, fisting a handful of his loose hoodie and tugging him forward sharply as he stumbled over his own feet._ _

__

__“I – I’m sorry I di –”_ _

__

__“Shut. It.” He growled lowly, his fingers tightening until nails dug at the back of Peter’s neck and he gasped shakily as he tripped over uneven pavement. The sheer force of the grip kept him upright as he scrambled to get his feet back underneath him. “You don’t get to say _anything_ because you _chose_ to run off to Stark’s ivory tower and hide away there. You knew the punishment was coming and you ran away like the pathetic baby you are.” Peter sniffled while Carter yanked him across the crosswalk, ignoring the way he tried to meet the eyes of the taxi drivers waiting for them to cross. He whined when he was jerked over the curb and almost tripped once again, his shin throbbing in a dull ache each time his feet met the pavement. “First you say you don’t care about punishments, then you run away like a five-year-old and have the nerve to bring Stark back to the apartment and cling to him like you’re his _boy-toy._ ”_ _

__

__Peter gaped and proceeded to catch his shoe on a rubbish bag as they passed, when Carter growled angrily and dragged him back to his feet, his palms were skinned, and he wiped them on his pants, wincing as dirt and gravel fell away from the raw skin. His stomach churned at the implications of Carters words ‘ _boy-toy._ ’ _ _

__

__Sure, the man would continually belittle and insult him, but it wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before from Flash. The beer seemed to have lubricated Carters spiel of insults and his tongue was loose enough to hurl that degrading title at Peter._ _

__

__“I – I’m not his bo –”_ _

__

__“No, this is when you shut your fucking mouth,” Carter spat angrily, hauling him past closed stores and dark alleys before the glorious sign of the Thai restaurant was in sight. “Disgusting, you look like a filthy runaway,” Peter felt Carters hands shoving him to the side and down an alleyway, behind a dumpster before he was being pressed chest first into a dirty wall and his neck was exposed as his hair was yanked backward so Carter could speak directly into his ear. Foul breath that lingered with alcohol fanned across his cheek and he held his breath in distaste while he felt the grimy wall beneath his cheek. “Stay here till I’m back with the food,” his hand dipped and despite himself, Peter inhaled sharply through his nose as he froze up. Carters fingers pulled his phone out of his front pocket before there was a rough elbow in the small of his back and he wailed at the bruising force of it. “Don’t. Move.” He felt the pressure against his spine release and then heard footsteps walking back out to the street and turning away to get the food._ _

__

__Peter sighed brokenly, sniffling again as he stepped away from the wall and dumpster, hoping to preserve his clothing so he didn’t have to explain himself to May and Tony once they got back. He stood silently for a few minutes, wishing Carter hadn’t taken his phone. He froze when a small group of men stumbled past the alleyway, obviously drunk, one of them met his eye and jeered loudly._ _

__

__“ _Heyyy_ baby doll! Need a little company down there?” The man hiccupped and walked into the back of his friend who turned to look at who the attention was for. By now it was dark, and Peter was fairly certain they couldn’t see his face from the darkness in the alley, he assumed they didn’t at least, or they were willingly catcalling a fourteen-year-old boy._ _

__

__“Looking for a customer so you can get on your _kneeeees_ for me baby?” Peter felt his face burn in shame and humiliation as he turned away from the men who were still hooting and whistling at him while they walked past the alleyway. He felt hot tears threatening to spill as one of them made a crude gesture with his hand and mouth that almost made Peter want to crawl into the dumpster. Another made explicit moaning sounds at him until a slightly less drunk friend slapped his head and tugged him further down the street, away from the alleyway as he yelled something about missing their taxi._ _

__

__Peter wiped his nose with his sleeve and rubbed his eyes to rid the sensation of spilling tears as he retreated back behind the dumpster and out of sight. He crouched down so he was completely absorbed in the darkness of the shadows that leaked from the dumpster and stayed silent until he heard footsteps and stiffened back up._ _

__

__“Get up, we’re going.” Carter scowled as he stood on wobbly legs and fragilely began to trail along behind him silently. The man held a plastic bag full of the Thai order and Peter distantly wondered whether he would be punished more for eating the sticky rice pudding. There wasn’t any incident for a few blocks until Carter turned to watch him for a moment before snapping, “stop limping, you’re acting precious.” He hung his head and tried his best to conceal the slight hobble in the leg where the man had kicked his shin. It stung, and the pain had become more noticeable as he tried to hide the limp by putting more weight on the leg, but he was sure it wasn’t broken, so he bit the inside of his mouth until they made it back to the elevator. “If you can’t wipe that shit away,” he flicked Peter’s cheek unkindly and smirked when the boy flinched violently, “then you tell May and Tony that I stopped those drunk kids for you.” Peter snapped his head up and met Carters eyes._ _

__

__“Y – you h – heard them…” he asked timidly._ _

__

__“Yeah, yeah I did. Hard to miss such a pathetic show of pusillanimity on your part,” he laughed darkly._ _

__

__“Pusillanimity?” Peter asked hesitantly, guessing the word was meant to belittle him._ _

__

__“I’m saying you’re a wimp,” Carter grunted as the doors slid open at their floor. “Not any point in hiding those now,” Peter glanced in the mirror before stepping out of the elevator, catching a glimpse of his face which was dirtied from when he had been pushed against the alley. Dried tear tracks stained his cheeks and his eyes were rimmed red from crying. “Play it up a bit then, tell them I stopped those guys and make it believable or you won’t be the one suffering.” He gripped Peter’s collar and leant down to face level, so he could press the point in heavily, “because I swear, if they get suspicious and May kicks me out, you will regret it and so will they.” He let go of the hoodie and Peter stumbled back, miserably thinking about the fact that he wouldn’t have to play up his distress because he was terrified and needed Tony to tell him everything was okay._ _

__

__He followed Carter down the hallway to the apartment door and stared at the same stain in the carpet he had seen for years, fighting the burning feeling of tears threatening to spill as he thought about Carter’s threat. He heard the jingle of keys and watched as the man jammed them in the door unceremoniously and pulled it open, stepping in before him._ _

__

__“Hey, how was the walk?” May asked from the couch as Peter walked into the apartment, his back turned to her and Tony as he closed the door behind him. He pulled it shut slowly, soaking up the time before he knew he would have to turn around and face them both. From where May and Carter’s voices were drifting from, he assumed everyone was sat in the living room, and he reluctantly moved from the door and walked towards them._ _

__

__There was a beat, then he looked up from the floor and met Tony’s eyes._ _

__

__“Peter!” The mechanic shot up from the couch and crossed the room abruptly, one hand moved up to hover over Peter’s face, as if he wanted to cup the boy’s cheek, while the other rested at his side. “What happened? Why are you dirty, are – are you crying?” Peter looks up at him with watery eyes as his chin began to wobble. “Oh Pete,” he murmured before pulling the teen into his chest and holding him tightly as he started to sniffle and cry._ _

__

__May was on her feet too, rubbing Peter’s back as she looked increasingly more concerned with each sob that was buried away in Tony’s neck. Carter was standing at the table in the kitchen, unpacking the plastic bag with their order, but Tony was watching him accusingly, his eyes narrowed, and teeth gritted together even as he clutched Peter closer to his chest. “What the _hell_ did you do?” He asked the man angrily, holding back the urge to snap too loudly, in fear of frightening the teen in his arms more._ _

__

__Carter was leant against the table casually, serving spoon in one hand as he flicked a piece of rice onto the floor disinterestedly, not paying much attention to Peter, who was still cradled against Tony while his body racked with quiet sobs. He glanced over with an unamused eyebrow raised when he caught the harsh tone in Tony’s voice, and the spoon was discarded next to the plastic containers of takeout while he crossed his arms and looked at the pair incredulously._ _

__

__“ _I_ didn’t do anything except help, so don’t point the finger at me because I’m the one who saved _his_ sorry ass.” Tony’s grip tightened, and he glared harder, his voice dropping dangerously low._ _

__

__“Don’t you _dare_ speak about him like that.” Even May had turned to look at Carter, her eyes were searching, trying to find some ulterior motive behind why he had snapped at her friend._ _

__

__“I think we all need to stop making assumptions and just focus on Peter for now,” she looked to Carter, “can you get me an icepack from the freezer?” Tony looked up at her in question and she stroked Peter’s head gingerly, running a gentle finger over an obvious bump at the back of his head. He mimicked her caring ministrations and grit his teeth harder as he felt the lump too._ _

__

__For a moment, Carter didn’t move from his spot and Tony thought he was about to refuse getting Peter an icepack, but eventually he did, an unreadable expression crossed his face, but he handed May the pack regardless before slumping in a chair at the table. Tony let May place the pack and he wrapped a hand around the back of Peter’s head to hold it against the bump. By then, the worst of his sobs had edged away, and he was merely curled around Tony’s neck as his breathing evened out._ _

__

__“You want to tell them what happened?” Carter said plainly, ignoring Tony’s glare as he felt Peter stiffening up slightly._ _

__

__“Y – yeah…” he said quietly, his breath hitching as he slid off Tony’s lap with a slight pink hue creeping across his face when the mechanic reached out to affectionately wipe away the dirt that lingered on his cheek. “M’ sorry, it – it wasn’t – it wasn’t him. C – Carter helped…”_ _

__

___No he didn’t, no he didn’t, nohedidn’t. He hurt me, please make him go away, he hurt me, he watched while those men harassed me, and he called me your boy-toy. He’s making me lie and he’s going to hurt you if I don’t._ _ _

__

__Peter felt sick, his hands were shaking as he tucked them into the dirty sleeves of his sweatshirt, but he smiled weakly at Tony who had wiped some of the grime off his face. “Th – there were just some drunk guys a – and they were y – yelling s – stuff at me,” he turned his face away and spoke softly, “Carter s – scared them off.”_ _

__

___Nohedidn’t, nohedidn’t, nohedidn’t!_ _ _

__

__“I – it was just… it was just scary, t – too much like… I – I though they were gonna…” He trailed off and Tony picked it up for him._ _

__

__“Too much like Ben, yeah buddy I know, you’re okay now.” He rubbed Peter’s shoulder sadly and watched the boy closely, he took in the ever-present fright and hurt in those wide, chocolate eyes, the way each breath would make his chest stutter slightly as a reminder of his earlier breakdown. “Why didn’t you call me?” Peter turned back to face him with an apologetic look on his face, his mouth opened and shut like he was trying to force words._ _

__

__“He didn’t have his phone,” Carter supplied, watching the exchange and feeling satisfied when Peter met his eye and his lip quivered in fear._ _

__

__“I watched you put it in your pocket as you left, Pete what happened?” The teen’s eyes flicked from his lap up to Carter then back down to the floor. There was silence for a moment until Carter spoke up for him._ _

__

__“He had it, but it wasn’t _on_ him,” Peter knew his phone was still tucked into the man’s pocket, they both did, but he had a suspicion he wasn’t getting it back._ _

__

__“Where was it then?” May looked at Carter but stayed beside Peter and Tony._ _

__

__“I don’t know, kid said he dropped it,” he answered, waving a hand in Peter’s direction before turning around and dishing up his own plate of food. “Isn’t that what you said happened Peter?” He turned around, he was holding the serving spoon and plate with a white-knuckled grip that the boy knew was meant for him._ _

__

__“I – I… y – yeah, m’ sorry, I’m really sorry Tony. I – I didn’t mean to lose it I was jus –”_ _

__

__“Hey, no kiddo honestly, it’s fine, it’s okay. We can make you a new one together in the workshop, it’s okay.” Tony pulled Peter into an embrace and from the positioning of it, he couldn’t see as Carter tapped the pocket holding the phone and smirked._ _

__

__Tony waited a long beat before he broke the silence, “let’s get you some food, okay?” Peter nodded shakily and stayed close to Tony’s side as they walked to the table. He winced as he untucked his hands from his sleeves and took what he was handed, the edge of the plate rubbed against his raw palms and Tony took the plate back off him and put it on the table. “What’s wrong?” He reached over and gently turned Peter’s hands upward, so he could assess the damage. “May, where do you keep the disinfectant?” He eyed the small pieces of gravel that still sat against the skin and frowned worriedly._ _

__

__“In the bathroom, I’ll dish everything up for you both,” May rubbed Peter’s shoulder and smiled as Tony guided him out of the kitchen and down to the bathroom._ _

__

__“Can you hold your hands out?” Tony let him sit on the closed toilet seat and pulled out a bottle of disinfectant and cotton pads to set them beside the boy. He knelt down and gently supported Peter’s hand as he lightly ran water over the wound, washing out all the dirt before he disinfected it. “You said the guys only shouted at you, why are your hands all scraped up and when did you hit your head?” Peter blinked and shifted uncomfortably, but Tony assumed the disinfectant was stinging slightly. “What happened kid,” he tilted Peter’s chin up and looked at him sincerely as he waited patiently._ _

__

__“He tripped when he ran away from the guys while I got rid of them.” Tony stood, turning to face the doorway where Carter was leaning, and he glared straight at him angrily._ _

__

__“You should eat dinner with May, I’m sorting Peter out just fine on my own, _thanks._ ” Carter’s eyebrows dipped to return the glare and his jaw clenched._ _

__

__“I think I can decide what I want to do in my own apartment, _Stark_.” Tony prickled, his back straightened, he moved closer to the man, his chest inflating as he growled._ _

__

__“Well _I_ think, considering your ‘explanation’ doesn’t explain the dirt on his face or _why_ he was even left alone in the first place, you aren’t exactly needed right now. I’d suggest leaving us alone and explaining to May why you brought her nephew home injured, covered in filth and terrified, or maybe you should just go to work now and give us all some space.” He scowled darkly, putting his hand on the doorknob and staring the man down until he stepped back enough for the door to close._ _

__

___He’s going to hurt me, he’s going to hurt May, he’s going to hurt Tony_ _ _

__

__“I – I think – I – I’m okay now, th – thank you Tony. W – we should have dinner,” he stood up and stepped forward. The mechanic was still facing the door, his protective demeanour had faded when the door had shut but he wasn’t turning to look at Peter._ _

__

__“Does he get angry at _you_ like that Peter?”_ _

__

___Yes, yes, yes. It hurts so, so much, please save me._ _ _

__

__“No.” He wanted Tony to turn around and tell him everything was okay. “N – not really,” he wanted to be held because it felt like his world was falling apart and he needed Tony to be his solid. “I – I mean sometimes h – he gets annoyed if I, um, if – if I talk too much or don’t do my homework, but th – that’s pretty standard.” He reached out tentatively, unfurling a finger outward until he touched Tony’s hand shyly. “I’m sorry… I don’t want you t – to be upset.” He curled his fingers into Tony’s palm and felt his fist close gently around them. “C – can you… can you look at me please?”_ _

__

___I need you so much, please, please don’t hate me for being so weak._ _ _

__

__“Okay, okay I just… I’m worried about you, I’m really worried about you kid.” He pulled Peter against his chest and folded his arms around the boy’s shoulders, hugging him closer as he felt the teen falling into the touch. “You’re really important Pete, I hope you know that.”_ _

__

__“Y – you’re important too… t – to me I mean.” He pulled closer and Tony reciprocated, Peter buried his blush in his neck, but the mechanic could feel the smile pressed against his pule point._ _

__

__\----_ _

__

__“Is he asleep?” May paused the movie, the light of the TV illuminated Tony as he brushed a curl from Peter’s face and continued to thread his fingers through the soft hair. She absently traced small patterns over Peter’s legs, which were spread out across the three-seater as his chest rose and fell with the rhythm of sleep._ _

__

__“Yeah, has been for a while. I uh – I can’t really move into another room to talk.” May smiled when she noted the teen who was sprawled out over Tony, his cheek squashed against the mechanics chest, arms wrapped loosely around his neck and body wedged between the back of the couch and his side. “What did Carter say before he left for work?”_ _

__

__“He did actually apologise for snapping, but I don’t know, I still feel like he isn’t making enough effort to get close to Peter. Whenever I ask about what they do all day, if they had lunch together or anything, he just says Peter stayed in his room the whole day studying and he did his own thing.”_ _

__

___Lying, he’s lying, heliedtoyou. He comes into my room and beats me. He refuses to let me eat and if I do he hits me until it hurts so much I throw up._ _ _

__

__“That’s what concerns me May, every time I try to visit during the week he says Peter’s gone out or he’s staying with a friend. Sometimes he’ll call me, but he always sounds so upset, he told me it was nightmares, but I never pressed it. I’m really worried about him, I feel like it has to be more than the Ben thing.” Tony swirled his hand in a figure-eight through the curls, prompting Peter to furl closer and make soft noises that could _almost_ have been described as purrs._ _

__

__“What do you mean?” May watched Peter’s face nuzzling instinctively closer into Tony’s collarbone, even in sleep._ _

__

__“I think having Carter around is digging up the old memories of Ben, that’s why he’s been getting so many more nightmares, lack of sleep might explain why he’s been so on-edge and jumpy too.” He tilted his head down awkwardly to check the boy was still sleeping before speaking. “He said Carter was hard to talk to sometimes, because they don’t have much in common, but he didn’t seem phased about the lack of effort on the other end.” Tony hesitated, chewing his lip before he spoke again, “I asked him if he _wanted_ Carter to act more like a father, and uh, he sai –”_ _

__

__“And he said no?” He nodded, surprised that May seemed to know already, “that doesn’t surprise me. Peter hasn’t been looking for a father for a long time Tony.”_ _

__

___Of course he doesn’t need a father, why would he have ever thought Peter would want a father, let alone him as one._ _ _

__

__“Oh, okay, yeah that’s fair… I don’t know why he would, I mean after Richard and Ben nobody else could really –”_ _

__

__“Tony,” he looked up from where he had been staring into space and blathering on about nothing. “Tony?” He turned to face May, making eye contact for all of two seconds before he dropped the gaze in favour of watching his own hand running through Peter’s hair. “You two are the most oblivious people I’ve ever met. Peter stopped looking for a father-figure the first day you came over and helped do the puzzle with him. Even if he hasn’t said it, he loves you and sees you as a parental figure, so if you just told him about how you _really_ knew Mary, it would mean the world to him.”_ _

__

__“Uhm…” his fingers stilled, and Peter made a whiney noise high in his throat. “He – uh, he said that?” May waved a hand in their direction and sipped her juice amusedly, a fond smile on her lips as she watched Tony’s hand automatically continue carding through Peter’s hair at the little whine he made._ _

__

__“Tony he ‘slipped up’ years ago and used the exact words ‘father-figure.’ He’s so shy and he probably wouldn’t ever have the courage to bring it up with you, but he’s always in such a good mood after he spends time with you. Honestly, I think you two just need to hash this out, so you can finally tell him you’re his _actual_ father.”_ _

__

__“Uh, y – yeah. I think… I think it’s time to tell him.” He sighed, but it was a content sigh, like the weight of his fear of rejection was sinking off his chest. “I’m going to talk to him here afterschool sometime this week or next, he needs to know.”_ _

__

__“I think he’s going to be over the moon Tony, just make sure you’re there for him on the bad days too.”_ _

__

__“Always,” he gazed down at the boy resting on his chest, _his son,_ and smiled adoringly. “I’ll always be there for him.”_ _

__

___Because that’s my kid._ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh yeah I figured I should say, I got Tumblr not so long ago ~ It's agib_2002 ~ congrats because now I'm sure you can probably work out how old I am :/
> 
> I post on there - it's all Marvel (especially irondad)
> 
> <3


	5. Drones and Microphones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carter thinks it's time for Peter's punishment from Tuesday night.
> 
> Unfortunately (or fortunately), Peter isn't the best at concealing black eyes, and Tony's had enough of worrying about his kid while Carter lurks in the doorway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's here, finally!
> 
> I think I built this chapter up so much in my head that there was no way I would be perfectly happy with it but, meh.
> 
> I really, really hope you like it, if you do please leave comments and let me know. I think I wrote four different scenarios before finally settling on this one, so I'm curious to know your opinions on it!
> 
> Just a warning:  
> There is a relatively graphic depiction of Carter using a belt, it's not that long of a scene but please heed the warning and don't read if you think it might trigger you, stay safe <3
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> <3

Tony drove home late that night, after he had carried the sleeping teen on his chest and gently deposited him into his room. He used a feather light touch to brush curls off his face and lay the blankets over him before checking May was alright, bidding her a goodnight and taking the lift downstairs.

 

One wall of the mirror was curved at an odd angle, but he payed it no mind as he stepped out and walked to his car.

 

The mechanic spent the remainder of his night in the lab, working on designs for Peter’s new phone, staring at the table blankly and mulling over exactly how he was supposed to tell the kid that they were biologically related.

 

His phone buzzed from beside him, breaking his unfocused stupor, and he picked it up while one fist rubbed lazily at his eye, the contact name ‘May’ blurred slightly as he blinked.

 

‘I’m heading to work now but feel free to stop by any time today. Pete has school though, so you could pop over in the afternoon to see how he’s doing.’

 

He sent a reply and wasted no time as he got himself a cup of coffee and planned to spend the rest of that day working on Peter’s phone.

 

\----

 

Peter was quietly closing his bedroom door behind him, fully dressed and ready for school, when his brain finally registered the T.V’s white noise, signalling Carter was awake already. He contemplated crawling back under his covers and hoping the man forgot he existed for a day, but that was never going to work.

 

Of course, it never worked.

 

“I’m waiting.” Carter’s voice barked from the living room, the T.V volume adjusting so no matter how hard he tried, Peter’s footsteps would always be audible as he slowly walked down the hall toward the man, his head hung. “Sit down,” he stepped shakily past the doorway of the hall, so he was situated in the middle of the room before following the demand and perching himself as far away from the man who was taking up a selfish amount of space on the three-seater. “Take off your shirt,” he said evenly, looking Peter in the face without a hint of humour in his expression.

 

“W – what?” Carter expected the reaction, or at least Peter assumed he did, judging by the speed at which he threw the remote across the couch at him as he spluttered confusedly. The remote clipped his shoulder but didn’t hurt as much as it did make him flinch before cowering further in on himself. “U – uh, w – why do I need t –”

 

“Take your shirt off and stop asking questions or it’s going to hurt a whole lot more.” Peter’s fingers danced at the bottom of his shirt and hoodie, he clutched the fabric and thought seriously about how willing he really was to avoid the unnecessary pain. Considering he was still limping from last night, the lump on his head had barely gotten better and his body was still littered with unhealed contusions, he was leaning towards compliance. The unbothered look on Carter’s face was slowly giving way to a more impatient and unimpressed frown. The longer Peter took to finally pull the layers off and set them down on the arm of the couch hesitantly, the further the man’s glare spread.

 

“I – is this my punishment?” He asked nervously, praying the man would leave it at crippling insecurity and humiliation as his pale, wounded and too-skinny torso was exposed.

 

“Absolutely not,” the man said gruffly after laughing unkindly at the teen’s unease. Carter stood from the couch, smirking when he noticed Peter shuffling himself further into the corner of his cushion in fear. “You know exactly why you’re getting this,” he drawled as something long and black unrolled down towards the ground menacingly. “You deserve it too, _brat_.”

 

The belt unfurled from where it must have been rolled in his hand, the buckle hit the floor with a clang that prompted Peter to take a terrified, breathy inhale. It was long, leather, dark and matte black as it dragged along the wood floors while Carter slid forward, his gaze staying locked unfalteringly on Peter’s now quivering form. The sharp edges of the buckle grated along the floor and made horrible scraping noises that made the boy shudder in thought of it lashing across his own skin.

 

“W – wait, n – no, that’s – that’s… it’s too dangerous,” he shuffled backward until he slipped off the couch, his trembling legs barely holding him in a standing position as he retreated further away from the clothing article he had never known could be so debilitatingly frightening. “C – Carter please don’t… I – I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” His bare skin hit the wall and he gasped wetly, not at all surprised to see that he was already spilling tears from the pure terror of the situation.

 

“I’ve called the school to let them know you ‘weren’t feeling well.’ You won’t be getting your phone back to call Stark and by the time May gets home I want you in bed, asleep.” Peter hiccupped and held his hands out in surrender, hoping the man would take pity on his obvious fear as he weakly tried to block himself from the blows he knew would inevitably rain down.

 

But, of course, again, it never worked.

 

\----

 

One of the worrying things was that, in the beginning, as Carter loomed over him and raised his hand, fight or flight instincts would kick in and flood Peter’s system with enough adrenaline that he bolted for the door. But now, as the belt finished snaking across the wood and Carter was fisting a hand into his hair and throwing him to the floor, chest down, he wasn’t filled with the sudden strength to run, he was brimming with burning tears as his entire body shut down and froze up. His instincts had grown from ‘flee,’ to what they were now, ‘coil into the smallest ball and sob as you wait the pain out.’

 

“Stop cowering or it’ll end up hitting you somewhere visible,” he felt the boot pressing into the small of his back, forcing his chest downward and exposing more of his back. Hot breath smelt of the coffee bought with _his_ lunch money as it fanned across his shoulders when Carter bent down to whisper closer to his ears. “And we wouldn’t want that now, would we Peter? Think of poor May with a black eye and imagine Tony Stark, the superhero, getting backhanded by someone like me.”

 

Peter choked on a sob at the thought, gritting his teeth to both hold back his cries and force himself to push through the beating for Tony and May. He whimpered feebly as he heard the resounding crack of the belt as Carter snapped it together pointedly. The teen’s forehead was pressed against the floorboards, his fists clenched as he braced himself for the blows, the effort to keep every muscle tensed in advance made his entire body tremble with shudders. “If you scream and tip off any of the neighbours, I’ll make sure the next time someone phones in a complaint it won’t be about _your_ screaming.” Peter’s lip wobbled as his eyes streamed fresh tears at the implication of May being hurt instead of him.

 

The boy didn’t have enough awareness to notice as Carter’s breath left his shoulders, and the faint noise of his shirt moving wouldn’t have given him enough of a warning before the mans arm was raised above his head and bringing the belt down across the sensitive flesh of Peter’s back.

 

\----

 

Carter was relentlessly burning through the fury that had built up over the past few days and nights where the teen had spent time with Tony, but to Peter, nothing could justify the brutality of the belt.

 

The lacerations etched angry, scarlet lines which zigzagged across the surface of his back. The multiple contusions weren’t worryingly deep, but in some places, where the metal buckle had struck down and torn skin, there were messy smears of blood surrounding each outline. The cuts that sunk deep enough to draw blood beaded up, and each time Peter jolted away before being roughly tugged back, they smudged more across his skin. His nails scrabbled at the floor, digging into wood as his fingers tried to pull him away from the hot, agonising pain that he had been so horribly unprepared for.

 

Carter’s warning about his screaming set an icy chill down his spine, so he resorted to broken sobs. When it grew to be too much, and he felt a scream bubbling in his throat, he buried his mouth over his own arm and allowed it to muffle his howling and wailing to a volume that was hopefully quiet enough to let the neighbours continue sleeping.

 

By the eighth hit, Peter had diminished to a snivelling, mewling, sobbing puddle on the floor of the living room. By the fifteenth, he was gasping for air, choking on breaths that wouldn’t come as stars danced around his head, cruelling imitating Tony’s galaxy projector he used to so often use for comfort. After another minute or so, he had lost count of the hits and was resigning to let the darkness consume him in a tsunami which he hoped would wash away the pain with it.

 

\----

 

Tony blinked warily as he finally clipped the case onto Peter’s new phone. He knew it was far from perfect, he had promised the kid they would both work on a new one in the lab, but he just needed a temporary ‘first draft’ model, because the idea of the teen not having any way of calling or texting him didn’t sit right for some reason.

 

That reason had a name, _Carter._ Something about the way that man would glance at Peter, or the way he had noted on several occasions how the boy stiffened and stepped closer to his side as the man spoke, triggered alarms in Tony’s head. He had denied it for long enough, he had grown more paranoid when it came to Peter’s wellbeing after he found out about the panic attacks, but he was almost certain he wasn’t just connecting random dots in his head anymore.

 

He took the liberty of driving to the apartment, just so he could see Peter with the phone himself, instead of trusting someone else to make sure the kid got it. The door was locked and there was no answer, it was almost midday, Peter would have been at school and Carter was either out or sleeping, so he made the decision to fly the phone into the boy’s room using a smaller droid carrier he had yet to test outside the lab.

 

The pocket-sized drone worked beautifully, he piloted it from his car, up through the fire escape, into the middle of the hall, in which he _may_ have minorly lost his orientation from the shorter height he was used to, but he tilted the camera either way. One shot showed a small view of the T.V screen, which was turned off, the arm of the couch, which Peter had unsurprisingly left his hoodie draped over, and a tiny glimpse of the dust that hadn’t been vacuumed up for at least half a week. 

 

The mechanic tilted the drone in the opposite direction, completely unaware that if he had piloted it past the living room doorway, he would have had a perfect shot of Peter, still lying unconscious with a bloodied back and tear-stained cheeks.

 

Tony locked the little droid forward and let it drift down the hallway to Peter’s bedroom door, which was thankfully ajar. He deposited the phone, snug in its Iron Man case and sleek packaging, adorned with the same red and gold bow he used for all the kid’s gifts, on the bed. He pressed a small button on the screen and a yellow sticky note fell beside the box before the droid slipped back out the fire escape, almost as if it had never been there in the first place.

 

\----

 

When Peter woke up, he firstly noticed how numb his cheek felt from being rested against the floorboards for hours. He basked silently in the few seconds between waking up and his brain finally registering the pain in his back. The moment the pure agony caught up with his somewhat frayed senses, he cried out, fresh tears welling up while he writhed on the floor, almost as if struggling could pull him away from the pain. He hated himself for not trying to run as soon as he saw the belt, he hated how pathetic he looked and felt, he blamed himself for everything because he knew he should have found some way to prevent things from getting so much worse. How was he ever supposed to tell Tony, now that things had been going on for so long, was it his fault now too? Should he have said something the first time Carter shoved past him, the first time the man cut him off and told him to go away, or even the first night they met, when the handshake had been a little too firm?

 

Regardless of how much he thought back to when he should have said something, Carter’s shift started earlier that day, he would get home a few hours after May and would have the next day off completely. 

 

He hated it when Carter had days off.

 

Peter waited until the man had walked past him, dealt the usual sneer of disgust as he stepped over the weak, motionless form and let the door swing shut behind him. The blood had begun to dry stickily and crust to the boy’s skin as it darkened, only then did he pull himself along the floor and into the bathroom. The shower’s spray would have been to unbearable, so Peter dampened a washcloth and drizzled the water over his shoulders, letting it drip down his back and fall into the tub in little red splatters. When enough of the crusted blood had washed down the drain, he slumped against the tub and sobbed for an hour, letting himself air dry as he imagined all the ways he could have just stopped this before it had progressed to being so much worse than he could easily handle.

 

Eventually, he used a towel railing to pull himself to his feet, then proceeded to stagger down to his room. He froze as he saw a shiny red box with a familiar red and gold bow taped to the top. Peter’s trembling fingers plucked a sticky note from his pillow and wiped away the tears from his eyes, so he could make out the writing.

 

_‘Hey Pete, just threw together a simple design that we can work on together next time you visit the workshop. I used the new drone/droid thing I told you about last time to deliver it though, just because you were at school and Carter must have been out when I came over. Gimme a call when you get this, just so I know it works, and so I can check in to see how you’re doing.’_

 

Peter huffed a happy breath from his nose as he saw the mechanic had signed the letter off with a doodle of the Iron Man mask instead of his name. Hope burst in his chest as he realised because Tony had used the drone, Carter wouldn’t have known he had gotten the phone, so there was no way he could possibly take it away from him. The teen carefully detached the bow from the box and disposed of the packaging quickly, hiding the bow in his bedside table where he had kept all of them since the first time Tony had found the wrapping. He had stuck it all over _anything_ he got Peter ever since, loving the tackiness of it.

 

He ran his fingers over the case, another Iron Man themed object he now owned. Peter had once asked for an Iron Man hoodie for Christmas to be ironic, because he kept trying to tell Tony he didn’t _need_ anything. The billionaire hadn’t stopped asking, so he asked for a licensed Iron Man hoodie to be funny, but Tony had just laughed, then went ahead to buy essentially every single hoodie with Iron Man on it. Peter cycled through all of them, he hadn’t believed it when the man had dumped them all on his bed and watched him dig through the pile, giggling in disbelief.

 

His heart sunk slightly when he remembered at least four of those hoodies were currently shoved under his mattress, bloodstains lining their insides to the point where he was too afraid to put them in the wash for fear of May seeing them.

 

His fingers were hovering over the only contact loaded into the phone when he realised it was only two thirty, he was still supposed to be in school at that time, so there was no way he could call Tony without having to explain why he wasn’t in class.

 

Peter crawled under his covers and stared at the phone screen blankly until the clock reached three thirty, then he pressed Tony’s contact with trembling fingers. There were barely even two rings before Tony picked up.

 

“Hey kiddo, phone working okay for you?” The comforting voice unpacked all of the boy’s emotions, it made him feel safer, warmer, reminding him that the man who always picked up the phone would drop everything to save him from Carter if he were to ever be honest.

 

But then again, could he even backtrack now and tell the truth? Wouldn’t it shatter the trust they both had with each other?

 

“P - please...” his voice cracked, tears still continuing to drip down his face and roll onto the blankets he had buried himself under. “C - C - Cn’ you tell me ‘bout your day please?” He kept his voice to barely a whisper, forcing the words to come out so quiet that they would be silent to anybody not sitting in the room with him. Carter was surely at work by now, so he was in the apartment alone, but the almost constant fear forced his pitch to stay low.

 

“I will, I will Pete I promise, but can you tell me what happened? Was it something at school that triggered you?” Tony sent an email off to Pepper without a second thought as he heard Peter’s shaking voice, his meetings were cancelled with the click of a button and he was already mentally calculating what time he would be going to the apartment tomorrow. He couldn’t listen to his kid sounding like this and then _not_ check up on him. “Peter you just need to talk to me a little bit then I can make it okay, you gotta tell me what’s wrong so I can help.”

 

“I – I don’t know, I – I got scared o – on the walk h – home. Too many p – people walking, I thought one of th – them was gonna…” He trailed off, unable to say the words and finish the blatant lie, but Tony assumed he was too afraid to talk about how uneasy walking through the streets made him after seeing his uncle shot.

 

_Liar, liar, liar, you’re lying to Tony and he’ll never forgive you. ___

__

__“Okay, okay that’s perfectly fine buddy. How bad is it, panic attack bad? You want me to come over now? I can come over right now if you need me too.”_ _

__

__Carter had specifically told him to be in bed when May got home, and Peter knew that if the man found out Tony had visited the apartment, he would take the belt out again._ _

__

__Once was enough. Peter couldn’t handle the belt. He _couldn’t.__ _

__

__“N – no, it – it’s okay. I ju – just wanna hear about y – your day please.”_ _

__

___TonyTonyTony. Tony will make it better._ _ _

__

__Tony felt like he was blabbering on about nothing, but if his nonsense helped Peter, he would talk about useless things for eternity. He would always do that, because he would do anything for Peter, he would do anything for his son._ _

__

__For Peter, unlike the other occasions where he would call after a bad day, the pain didn’t ease all the way like he wanted it to, the aching burn wouldn’t even soften at all, but yet again, Tony launched into a step by step recount of everything he had done that day, without hesitation. Despite the crippling burn of the welts covering his back and the raw marks where the belt had whipped his skin, he burrowed himself further under the covers and rested his head against a pillow while he listened to Tony’s voice._ _

__

__\----_ _

__

__Tony spoke for who knows how long, but when he could finally hear Peter’s small puffs of air transition into longer, more even sighs of sleep, he whispered a gentle goodnight and hoped the boy had heard it somewhere in his dreams as the call clicked off softly._ _

__

__\----_ _

__

__May let him stay home the next day, when she crept into his room the next morning and saw how pale he was, how tired he was, she insisted, and he didn’t bother arguing. He wouldn’t have been able to walk to school without collapsing anyway. She must have texted Tony to let him know Peter was staying at home, because the mechanic drove himself over and knocked at ten in the morning. Peter knew because Carter opened the door to his room and hissed for him to stay silent, whispering threats before answering the door._ _

__

__The walls of the apartment were thin, they were so thin, and Peter just wished that they weren’t. Because even sitting, curled up under his desk in his room, he could still hear Tony arriving. He could hear his father-figure asking for him, he could hear as his abuser put on a horrifically realistic tone of sympathy and _lied._ _ _

__

__Somewhere in his mind, he wondered if he was really any better than Carter, all the lies he had been spewing ever since that first slap added up, and he felt as if the putrid untruthfulness of May’s boyfriend wasn’t really any different than him._ _

__

__“He went out for a walk, not sure when he’ll be back, I think he may be getting fresh air, _apparently_ he wasn’t feeling that well this morning.” The walls are still too thin, he can hear the sadness and longing in Tony’s voice when he replied._ _

__

__“Oh, alright then. Could you let him know I stopped by, tell him I said hi?” The emotion in his voice was so, _so raw,_ Peter could feel his chest burning and the fiery lump in his throat ripping as he choked back a sob and forced himself not to fall into another panic attack._ _

__

__“Of course, I’d love to.” God, he knew what that tone in Carter’s voice meant. He knows what was going to happen as soon as the door closed, and Tony began to walk down the hall. “Have a good one Stark,” the man called, then the sound of the door closing, and Peter felt his whole torso constricting in on itself as he pulled his knees tighter to himself._ _

__

__The sound of footsteps nearing his room, his door being pushed open, the sight of Carter’s booted feet coming forward and stopping directly in front of him. “Under the desk, really? _Pathetic._ This is the fourth time this month so far. Big shot won’t take the hint and back off, huh? He really wants to keep dropping by…” Carter stomped his foot cruelly and grinned when it earnt him a petrified wail from Peter’s shaking form. “I don’t think I trust you enough to see him without blabbing, either that or you’ll be stupid enough to flash some more of those bruises you earnt yourself.” He holds in a whimper, desperately wishing it was the weekend, so May would be here. “Don’t even try it with those petty noises, you knew you’d be punished for spending time with Stark.”_ _

__

__Peter thought the belt had been punishment enough._ _

__

__Without warning, Carter’s boot flew forward and caught Peter’s shin, it slammed into him and made his head jerk backward into the wall. Another one managed to collide with his wrist, and he fell on his side with the loss of support the limb had given him. He wished he hadn’t fallen, because now the kicks were smashing his ribs and stomach, one of them even landed on his collarbone and left a smudge of dirt across his neck when it was reared back for another blow. Peter’s mind screamed at him while he took the blows and shook with silent sobs._ _

__

___‘Call for Tony, call out for Tony! He wouldn’t have even made it to the elevator yet, you can end this now. End this now! Get help, make the pain stop. Make everything bad go away, call Tony!’_ _ _

__

__He gasped as he felt something in his chest crack brutally and then a fierce pain engulfed him entirely, his vision whiting out for a moment. A whimper was involuntarily torn from his throat as the boot crushed down in the same place and his body exploded with the searing sensation._ _

__

__“T – To – Tony…” He breathed out between sobs, gasping for air and regretting it immediately when the scorching pain flared up even more. His call was weak at best, a pitiful whine blown out at a volume he thought only he could hear._ _

__

__Unfortunately, he was wrong._ _

__

__“Don’t fucking speak,” Carter hissed, landing a kick again but keeping it pressed against Peter’s chest, leaning more and more of his weight onto it with each word. “If you even whisper a word about any of this to Stark or May, I swear…” He trailed off before shoving more weight down through his foot, making Peter choke on the unrelenting agony._ _

__

__This was the time the man expected an answer from him, he had learnt that keeping silent wouldn’t end well for him. But no matter how much he wanted to speak, it hurt too much, the flames licked every inch of him and the edges of the room fizzled darker with every hacked syllable he forced out._ _

__

__“I kn – know. I know. I – I – I wo – won’t, I s – swear.” He coughed when the boot lifted and curled further in on himself when he saw the disgusted sneer cross Carter’s face. The man leaned down and threw his fist into the side of Peter’s face before he finally left the room, much like how the teen realised Tony must have been leaving the building around that same time._ _

__

__He couldn’t fathom the fact that he was just beaten within an inch of unconsciousness while possibly the only person who could save him from this walked down the hall. He let himself cry, great heaving sobs that only served to aggravate his now definitely broken ribs. Hours later, after his weeping died away, he crawled to the bathroom, locking the door behind him and slumping over the toilet seat. He retched from the pain but only his tears fell into the toilet bowl, his stomach already empty from not eating anything that day or the previous one._ _

__

__\----_ _

__

__The next time Tony visited, only a day later, May wasn’t home again. He refused to keep waiting, the more he showed up and got denied, the more suspecting he grew of Carter. Peter hadn’t been answering his phone much, he knew the boy hadn’t been at school the day before, and yet he was told by May’s boyfriend that he hadn’t been at home either._ _

__

__“Oh, hey Carter, just stopping by to see Pete, he home?” The man’s face twisted slightly, and he looked put out for a moment while he paused, before he started to speak._ _

__

__“Actually he’s –” Tony decided he was done with the continuous suspicious denial of Peter being home, so he cut Carter off for long enough to hear a dulled noise. It seemed to have been humming from inside the apartment, and he recognised the almost mute beat as a song Peter often played when he eventually got a turn to choose the music in the workshop._ _

__

__“Yeah, I can hear his music from here, mind if I just say hi quickly?” Tony was going inside whether he was given permission or not, but he thought it would be beneficial to at least pretend to wait for an answer. Carter looked like he was torn between just shutting the door and arguing, but eventually the billionaire gave up on waiting ad merely stepped past the man and into the apartment._ _

__

__“Prick,” he heard a not so under-the-breath name from Carter, which he paid no mind to as he crossed through the living room and into the hallway. Tony headed straight for Peter’s room, where the music was playing quietly, almost silent. He knocked respectfully, and the sound immediately shut off, followed by Peter’s timid stutter._ _

__

__“S – sorry, I’ll keep I – it off,” the mechanic stepped into the bedroom and answered warmly, wanting nothing more than to just pull the kid out of his chair and apologise for not merely shoving past Carter sooner in the week._ _

__

__“Hey, sorry, just me kiddo.” Peter was sat at his desk with the hood of his large sweatshirt pulled up over his head, he didn’t even turn in his chair when he spoke. His voice was hoarse, almost like he had been crying, and it made Tony’s heart squeeze in uncomfortable worry._ _

__

__“O – oh. Sorry, h – hey Tony.” He walked to stand by the boy’s side, looking at the homework spread out over his desk._ _

__

__“Whatcha working on squirt?” He tilted a page and skimmed an interested eye over the notes and equations that covered majority of the paper. The white sheet was scribbled with various coloured pens and highlighters for various sequences of numbers, it would look hectic to anyone else, but to Tony, it looked like something only _his_ son would understand._ _

__

__“N – not much, just some math notes I need t – to go over.” Peter didn’t say that if he wanted dinner he was required to complete insane hours of study. Instead, he stayed quiet and tried not to think about how he couldn’t hear the T.V playing anymore and kept his head down._ _

__

__“Aren’t you hot all cooped up in here?” Tony fussed as he leant forward to pull the hood down and ruffle Peter’s curls fondly. The hood fell around the teen’s neck, and Tony’s finger had barely brushed the first strand of hair when he saw it. “Pete! what the hell?” The boy flinched, turning further away defensively, but he spun the chair around, so they were looking straight at each other._ _

__

__From the better angle, Tony had a perfect view of the disgustingly dark staining that mottled the skin around Peter’s eye while the boy began to fumble over his words to explain it away like he always seemed to do._ _

__

__“I – I’m sorry, I k – know it looks bad b – but it’s just –” He had only just started stuttering out the usual excuse, backed up by a weak smile, before he was cut off abruptly by the same voice that made his spine shiver in fear._ _

__

__“Stark.” Peter jerked violently and twisted his neck around suddenly, his wide eyes swivelled to stare at the doorway where Carter stood. He shuffled in his chair, so the hand Tony had rested on his shoulder fell away. He had picked up on how much more aggressive the beatings were when Tony’s affection was evident or displayed._ _

__

__“Hey, sorry if I was loud, I was just getting a look at the black eye Peter h –” Tony’s half-assed apology was thick and barely placating, but he grit his teeth together when he was rudely interrupted._ _

__

__“No, it’s fine, didn’t mean to interrupt,” Carter said, cutting Tony off and highlighting the irrelevance of his apology. Peter turned away in his chair and went back to looking over his notes, holding the pen in his hand which had begun to shake._ _

__

__He could see Tony in the reflection of his laptop screen, but Carter had already noticed how concernedly the mechanic looked at the boy and took matters into his own hands. “So, Stark, I was thinking, Peter has study he needs to do, and we didn’t exactly get off on the right foot, Tuesday night. May’s getting home later tonight and I thought we could get some lunch, get to know each other a little better. Maybe sort out the issues we have.” Peter ducked his head when his name was mentioned, going back to scribbling something on his page. Tony scrunched his nose at the use of his last name and didn’t feel at all happy letting the subject of Peter’s eye drop._ _

__

__“I just came to visit the kid for a while, I’m heading off soon, so –”_ _

__

__“May mentioned, with how close you two were, and with her promotion I’m at home a lot more when you drop by, she thought it would be nice if we knew each other better, for her sake.” The lies Carter spilled were heavy, and the false care in his voice made Peter cower more in his chair, because he knew what the fake niceties meant for him, once they were alone again. The man smiled, and Tony couldn’t see the true darkness behind the expression, but nonetheless, he still disliked the way Peter was tensing and looking further away._ _

__

__Agreeing to lunch with Carter was the last thing Tony wanted to do right now, he didn’t trust the man, he didn’t like the way Peter seemed to tense up around him. But, if May wanted it, and Peter could get some time to himself while he was out with Carter, maybe it wasn’t such a horrible idea, perhaps he could figure out the whole story of what happened on Tuesday night when the two had gone out to pick up dinner._ _

__

__“Uh… yeah sure. Why not, I guess, if it’s for May. I’ll just say bye to Pete really quick,” he looked to Carter pointedly, but the man made no move to leave the doorway like Tony wanted him too. He said goodbye to Peter regardless, all too aware of the extra presence hovering impatiently in the room. “Make sure you eat something kiddo, I can get you something while we’re out if you want though. Don’t overwork yourself,” he ghosted a finger over Peter’s eye and tutted lightly. “Don’t think I’m not gonna hear the whole story behind that buddy, you want anything while I’m out?”_ _

__

__“I’m okay, th – thank you though,” Peter fidgeted nervously, his fingers twining and untwining with themselves as he fiddled with his pen, like he had more to say. Tony hesitated for a moment, waiting to see if the boy wanted to say anything else, before he stood from the bed and walked towards the door, where Carter had pushed off from._ _

__

__Just as Tony stood to leave, and Carter finally turned away from his doorway, Peter forced himself to do what he ached for, despite his back still stinging horribly and his whole body protesting the sudden movement. He jumped up from the chair gracelessly and threw himself into Tony’s chest, wrapping his arms around the mechanic’s middle and hugging him tightly, gripping him subtly for support as he felt his ribs screaming in protest. “Th – thank you, f – for coming to see me,” the teen whispered, taking shallow breaths through the pain and choosing instead to focus on Tony’s warmth._ _

__

__The billionaire hugged back after a moment of shock and indecision. When he leaned his chin down to rest atop the boy’s curls, he picked up on Carter’s reflection in Peter’s laptop. The man’s eyes were on them both, he was watching the embrace with something like warning in his eyes, which had locked onto Peter admonishingly. The kid slid out of the hug quickly and looked down at the floor to hide the submissive look on his face. He didn’t know why he let himself do that, he didn’t fully comprehend how much that hug meant, but he did understand what Carter could do to him as punishment once they were alone again. “S – sorry, I – I’ll let you go get lunch n – now,” he apologised involuntarily and felt his face heat up. When he turned and shuffled back to his chair, Tony noticed the limp that he was taking great effort in trying to conceal._ _

__

__“Hey, don’t be sorry, I care about you, okay?” Before Peter could respond, Carter was tapping his fingers against the doorframe, making the teen flinch and hurrying Tony up, despite the irritated look he was shot._ _

__

__“Let’s not fluff around too much, I wanted lunch, not dinner,” he said with a grin that Peter knew wasn’t friendly. The boy didn’t even try to fix Tony with an unconvincing smile as he walked out the door behind Carter._ _

__

__\----_ _

__

__Tony couldn’t get the picture of Peter’s shiner out of his head the entire drive to the restaurant, which was predominantly spend in awkward silence. Carter had chosen the restaurant, he insisted on using his own car and didn’t even bother to attempt breaking the silence as he drove._ _

__

__The man had horrible manners, he was borderline rude at all times, he made underhanded comments and his face peeled back into a sneer more often than not, but none of those isolated qualities were what peaked Tony’s dislike. What he really hated about Carter was how none of those traits were ever displayed around May, in fact, the man was sickly-sweet around her, and possibly the largest issue, was that Peter had never seemed to warm to the man either, and Peter warmed to almost every new person he was introduced to, because he was kind-hearted and loveable. Why Carter seemed to have a distaste to the boy had never been clear to Tony, who had spent his life adoring the kid since the day they met. From nerdy science shirts, large, hazel eyes and honey-chocolate curls, Peter had meant everything to him since day one, onwards._ _

__

__At the restaurant, the conversation between him and Carter stayed light, awkward and particularly strained at times, but what Tony found odd was the fact that whenever he tried to bring Peter up in any way, each time Carter would hurry the subject along or dismiss it completely. He remembered the night of Peter’s thirteenth birthday, the night he first met Carter, the man hadn’t seemed all too interested in any of Peter’s hobbies or interests, but at least he had looked like he was trying to pay attention. But now, the disinterest seemed to have morphed into undeniable dislike and avoidance, not to mention the fact that he seemed to hate talking about Peter at all._ _

__

__“Okay cut the bullshit for a second here,” he snapped, halfway through their meal and after the third consecutive time Carter had dismissed any talk about Peter. “I want to know exactly what happened to his eye, and don’t even think about changing the subject here, because that kid means a lot, and I don’t tolerate seeing him hurt.” He leaned back in his seat, folding his arms and watching the man across from him, trying not to imagine how amazing it would be if May just kicked him to the curb already. “Cough it up, explain to me, why Peter is now sporting a pretty undeniable shiner? Huh?” Carter looked unimpressed with the line of questioning, but unlike what Tony had thought would happen, he didn’t seem all too fussed about it._ _

__

__“Eh, mentioned something about a kid at school pushing him ‘round a bit,” he shovelled the last piece of steak into his mouth and wiped it with his thumb, leaning back similar to how Tony had. “To be completely honest, it doesn’t surprise me, he’s pretty scrawny, unathletic, doesn’t play any sport, it was really only a matter of time till he would start to get picked on, especially as a kid like him.” Tony narrowed his eyes accusingly, pinching his lips together and tilting his head as he fumed inside._ _

__

__“I’d watch how you spoke about him. How do you think May would react if she knew the shit you talked about her nephew?” Carter merely shrugged, a poorly hidden smug expression crossing his face. “If we’re being completely honest here, you don’t deserve either of them,” Tony watched the man’s eyebrow raise in question, and he gladly proceeded to explain exactly what he meant. “May is an amazing woman, she works full time, raises a perfect kid all on her own, supports both of them and puts a roof over their heads. Peter, as you should well know by now, is the most intellectual, fourteen-year-old genius I’ve ever seen, he keeps up with me easily in the lab, breezes through advanced schooling, great manners, willingly helps May with anything she needs, and has the common decency to put up with your sorry ass. Neither of them deserve someone like you soiling their lives, and I think you know that. I don’t care how happy May seemed at first, but I can tell you now, unless you start treating Peter with the same respect you give her, she’s going to leave you to rot on the streets.” Tony crumpled his napkin and threw it on his plate, standing abruptly and straightening his jacket, “I’m making a call, wait for the cheque,” he said without any warmth._ _

__

__He walked to the bathrooms, his teeth still grinding together as he leant against a sink and took out his phone, scrolling down to Peter’s name and typing out a message he hoped the boy would see._ _

___‘Hey, I want you to know, about earlier, I do care kiddo. I drop by because I want to check up on you and see how you’re doing. You don’t need to thank me for that.’_ _ _

__

__Unsurprisingly, he didn’t get a response._ _

__

__When he came back to the table, the cheque had been delivered and Carter obviously hadn’t made any move to pay. Tony threw his card inside the book and tried not to think about how casual Carter was, despite the mouthful he had just dumped on the man. He had assumed there would be a hostile and defensive reaction, but if anything, Carter was sinking back into his sickly-sweet persona._ _

__

__The drive back was tense, they didn’t have anything to talk about, especially considering the only thing they had in common was Peter, and that subject point wasn’t well received, to say the least. Carter pulled up and began to say a goodbye, acting as if he didn’t want Tony coming back up to the apartment, which he definitely would be._ _

__

__“I’m just grabbing something from my car, then I’m heading up right behind you.” Tony received a poorly concealed eye-roll but was ultimately glad when, after hesitating for a moment, Carter begrudgingly walked into the building and left him alone._ _

__

__He unlocked his car and slid into the passenger side, flipped open the glove compartment and rifled around until he found a tiny, emergency microphone that he had once needed for a mission. The hero was just thankful that he had been too lazy to take it out of the car after the single time he used it. Just before he closed the door he pulled out an old tube of Arnica cream for Peter’s black eye and pocketed it._ _

__

__Tony moved quickly, the longer he took to get up to the apartment, the more time Carter was up there, alone, with Peter._ _

__

__He walked to the elevator and jabbed the buttons hurriedly, chewing at the inside of his cheek and hiding the microphone in his sleeve surreptitiously. The mirror was still warped oddly, someone must have walked backwards into it, he figured it was an eager couple who couldn’t wait to get to their room, he had been there before._ _

__

__When he got to the apartment he couldn’t see Carter lounging on the couch like he expected, but he heard the man’s low voice coming from Peter’s room. He followed the hushed voice and walked quicker than he normally needed to. When he pushed open the door, where it was sat partly ajar, he saw Peter, still sat at his desk with Carter leaning his hands on the arms of the chair, almost as if he were trapping the boy in. The teen was visibly shaking as Tony stepped into the room, Carter jerked backward so quickly that the chair wobbled, and Peter gasped in fright, wincing when he leaned forwards instinctually to steady himself._ _

__

__“I didn’t think you were actually coming back up,” Carter muttered, brushing imaginary wrinkles from his shirt with annoyance mixed into his voice._ _

__

__“Well, like I said, I just needed to get something from my car, then I’d be right behind you.” Tony punctuated his words and moved to stand between Peter, watching the man intently and quirking his elbow in case he needed to shield the boy. Natasha would be proud his first instinct was to dip his knee and lift his elbow subtly, it gave him a faster reaction time if the man were to lunge at him unexpectedly. Carter clenched his jaw and shrugged, straightening up and trying to shoot the teen a smile that was supposed to make Tony forget what he might’ve seen._ _

__

__“It was a good lunch, but Peter still has work to finish,” Carter bit, the fabricated smile beginning to melt away as Tony challenged his authority._ _

__

__“That’s fine. I’m not staying, just saying bye,” the two men stared at each other, Tony squaring his chest and refusing to back down until Carter did. Tension hung thickly in the room, like a heavy fog surrounding the two men while Peter still cowered beneath them, not making eye contact as he shivered anxiously. After a moment, Carter did step to the side, moving to the door so Tony could stand beside Peter’s desk, although he stayed in the doorway and waited, hovering rudely and making Tony want to say something about it. “Hey kiddo, I figured you need this more than I do at the moment,” he put the small bottle of Arnica cream on the desk and smiled softly, not missing the way it wasn’t returned. From what he could see, Peter seemed terrified, and when he looked from the bottle to Tony, the light caught his eyes and they glistened, reflecting the lamp with a watery stare as if he were holding back tears._ _

__

__“Th – thank y –” He began shakily, before he was cut off._ _

__

__“Where’d you get that from?” Carter interrupted harshly. Tony was barely able to supress the urge to glare at him. His teeth grated against each other and his fists clenched, picturing himself physically shoving the man from the room, so he could say a real goodbye to his kid and explain the plan he was busy formulating._ _

__

__“I keep it in my car, for if I ever get banged up in my suit during a fight.” He used the subtle nod towards the Iron Man armour in hopes of getting the man to back off, it didn’t seem to work, only succeeding to make his teeth grind together more. Carter never seemed phased by mentions of Iron Man, not that he would know exactly how easy it would be for the armour to tear him apart if he really wanted to._ _

__

__“Thank you, r – really Tony…” Peter looked like he wanted to say more, but his chair turned slightly, and he made eye contact with Carter. Tony didn’t see the look the boy was met with, but he wished he had, because Peter’s lip started to tremble, and he turned back to face him quickly. “Th – thank you, b – but I really need to get more w – work done before dinner…” He turned away guiltily, facing his desk, the watery look in his eyes was so much more obvious now and he looked like he was barely able to hold back the tears._ _

__

__“It was nice, it’s getting late now, so…” Carter nodded to the door expectantly and Tony couldn’t hold back his scowl. He leant down without hesitation and pulled Peter into a hug, squeezing him tightly and taking note of how the sudden contact made the kid squeak in fright and tense up before he quickly relaxed into the embrace, squeezing back just as tightly. He held on as if his life depended on it and buried his wince in Tony shoulder as he felt the growing pressure on his ribs._ _

__

__When Tony was certain that the back of Peter’s chair covered his movements, he slid a hand under the desk and stuck the microphone in place firmly, tapping twice to activate it while silently praying he was somehow way off base, and it wouldn’t pick anything bad up. The boy didn’t notice, thinking Tony was just leaning into the hug more._ _

__

__They held onto each other for a short while longer before there was a sharp noise as Carter cleared his throat incisively. He tapped at the screen of his watch tersely as the two broke apart and led Tony to the door, but not before he turned to look back and glimpse Peter staring after him. The teen bit his lower lip as his whole chin trembled, and perhaps it was a trick of the light, but Tony thought he may have seen a single tear escape and begin to trail down his cheek silently. He could hear the petrified and shaky voice call out softly once he was in the living room, being guided towards the door._ _

__

__“I – I love you,” Peter said hoarsely, almost too quietly to hear from his bedroom. Tony didn’t have time to respond before Carter was clapping him on the shoulder and using the ‘friendly’ pat to persuade him out of the apartment._ _

__

__“That was fun, we should do it again, Stark.” He didn’t get a chance to reply to Peter or Carter as the door swung shut and he walked back down to his car in a daze, the words ringing in his ears, _‘I love you.’__ _

__

__Him and Peter were close, they had been since the first night they’d met, and the young child had shyly asked if he would keep coming over. Anytime they were tinkering in the workshop or lounging around and watching a movie, all he wanted to do was tell him the truth about their biological relation. The worry, that he would inadvertently be hauling Peter into the spotlight with him or that it would ruin the already paternal-like relationship they had, was always eating away at him and preventing the truth from spilling._ _

__

__They never said they loved each other, they never even really spoke about their relationship. It had just become a regular thing, Peter coming to the lab every week or two, Tony dropping by the apartment and seeing how the kid was doing more frequently. The thought of anything bad happening to Peter, to his son, made him feel physically sick, it hurt to even imagine._ _

__

__As soon as he reached the car, he was sliding the listening piece into his ear slowly, absolutely terrified of what he might hear._ _

__

__It was silent._ _

__

__Not completely silent, but the sounds he dreaded weren’t there. He could hear the scratch of Peter’s pen against paper and his still slightly shaky breaths. The occasional sad sniffle made him clench the steering wheel as he drove home, but other than that, it stayed bearable. The desperate urge to turn around and storm back up into Peter’s room just so he could grab him, hold tight again and tell him that he loved him too, was all consuming. He strained to see if he could make out any background noise, the T.V, the fridge opening, or Carter making dinner, but there wasn’t anything else, so he assumed Peter had closed his door. It stayed that way the entire length of Tony’s drive home, and only when he got inside and slumped in his own lab chair did anything change._ _

__

__In all honestly, he was growing more nervous the longer the normality stretched on, because if nothing happened and Tony had been wrong, the device would be a major invasion of Peter’s privacy, especially given that it was inside his bedroom. However, the doubt hadn’t grown enough to the point where he began toying with the idea of taking the ear piece out, because he was stopped by a new sound._ _

__

__Tony heard a particularly frightened sounding sob from Peter, which made him sit up and grip the edge of his work bench, then the feed was picking up the sound of deliberately heavy footsteps growing closer to the teen’s room._ _

__

__The boy’s breathing picked up rapidly, almost to the point of hyperventilating, then there was a bang like someone was slamming their fists onto the door to the room. He heard the desk chair rock as Peter assumingly jumped in fright, followed by a small cry of fear and the sound of a door being forced open filled the ear piece. There was the sound of the kid starting to stammer a weak plea before he was cut off abruptly by a much stronger, more furious voice._ _

__

__“W – w – wait –”_ _

__

__“What the fuck was all that, huh? ‘I l – love you?’ ‘Th – th – thanks for visiting m – me?’” Carter cruelly mocked Peter’s stutter, which Tony knew only grew noticeable when he was afraid or overexcited. The fact that the stammering was only increasing around May’s boyfriend was becoming clearer now. “God, you are the most see-through, pathetic excuse of a kid, aren’t you?” The stomping stopped right by the desk and Tony pressed his teeth against each other so hard that he thought they may crack under the pressure he was exerting._ _

__

__“C – Carter, p – please…” He was begging quietly, his voice wavering on every word from the terror. Tony wanted to tear the man’s head from his shoulders and watch him rot in a jail cell._ _

__

__Tony stood up, a murderous look filling his eyes as he strode to the centre of his lab and left his chair spinning in a lazy circle as DUM-E whirred in curiosity. He outstretched his limbs in an eerie sense of calm brought forth by the bubbling rage that was seemingly only continuing to grow within him._ _

__

__“Suit,” he said evenly, his brow lowering into an intently focused glare. The metal flew towards him and attached to his form, the faceplate locking on and the screen display lighting up as he powered everything up fully._ _

__

__“Shut up. Shut up! You’re such a fucking baby around Stark, wanting hugs and getting all excited when he ‘stops by.’” Peter whimpered softly, and Tony’s state of calm cracked slightly as he snarled at the sound of his kid’s distress. “You think, that just because you aunt knows Tony Stark, you deserve all his stupid presents? Yeah? You think you fucking deserve to be spoilt?”_ _

__

__There was a muffled gasp that sounded as if Peter’s head had been turned away from the mic, and an image of Carter fisting his hand in the boy’s curls to yank his neck back roughly, filled Tony’s mind. “This is why I don’t bother to put food on your plate or give you lunch money and drive you home from school, because Stark will just take you out. He’ll get you a meal, drive you around in his fancy cars and buy you a bunch of stupid shit, you don’t even need!”_ _

__

__Of course he would, if that’s what Peter wanted, Tony would do it in a heartbeat. If Peter felt like ice cream, they would stop for ice cream. Hell, if Peter wanted to own every ice cream store in Queens, Tony would buy them all. Because that was his kid, his son deserved the world, and more._ _

__

__But Peter didn’t get the world. He got dealt the worst hand in life, his mother and adoptive father died, his uncle was shot, his aunt’s boyfriend abused him, he got pushed around at school and he still skipped through life with a dopey smile on his face and his heart worn on his sleeve. He was the kindest person Tony had ever met, and yet people took advantage of him, they left him cold, vulnerable, exposed, and he was left to pick up the pieces and cradle them to his heart like no child should ever have to._ _

__

__Peter’s sobs had increased, it sounded like he was heaving through the tears, whimpering every so often and sucking in violent breaths. “Fucking Arnica cream?” There was the sound of nails on wood, like somebody was picking up the bottle he had given the teen, then a crash and the rustling of plastic as if it had been thrown in the bin. “It’s garbage, just like you,” Carter yelled as he threw it, then his voice dropped lower as he hissed, the sound picking up closer to the device as he presumably leaned in. “You know you got that little mark on your face because you acted like a brat, so you don’t get to make it go away. I’ll just give you another one next time you decide to sneak off out the fire exit.” Peter let out a pained whine and sniffled again, louder this time. “Stark thinks winning a little science fair means you deserve this?” There was a slamming sound, and he assumed it was Peter’s laptop being clapped shut. “You get rewarded for shit-all? I will continue doing this each time you get pampered for no reason,” Carter’s threat was followed by Peter’s gasp._ _

__

__“N – no! Please!” Then, there was a smashing sound and something skittering across the desk and onto the floor. It sounded like the laptop being broken into pieces. There was a moment of quiet, then Peter sucked in a breath and spoke with a tremor, “y – you’re j – just jealous of T – Tony.”_ _

__

__“No kid… don’t defend me,” Tony whispered into the emptiness of the workshop. He flinched, jolting from within his suit when there was a resounding slap and he could hear Peter cry out in pain. He growled audibly and diverted power to the thrustors._ _

__

__“Don’t you ever talk back! I’m not even your fucking father and I need to teach you how to behave properly.” The noise of someone’s hand crashing down onto the desk and then a whoosh of muffled staticky noise filled his ear. Tony burst into the sky during the period of silence, mind reeling as he tried to figure out what the noise had been. _Had the desk snapped in two? Oh god… did the mic dislodge?_ There was a rustle and then Carter’s voice was crisper and clearer than before, he spoke threateningly quietly. “ _What. Is. This?_ ” He demanded lowly._ _

__

__“I – I – I don’t – I don’t know… please, I s – swear, I have no idea what th – that –” He could hear Peter yelp and then another slamming noise, followed by a second cry of pain and more sobbing, even closer to the point of hysteria now. “No! N – no please, please! I don’t – I don’t kno –” For every slap and hit Tony could hear through the ear piece, he increased his speed._ _

__

__“It’s a fucking mic!” Carter yelled so loudly that the audio crackled slightly, and Tony winced at the volume. “How long have you had this hidden there? You planning on telling someone about all this, huh? Huh!” There was a shaky gasp and it sounded like Peter was painfully trying to form words before the man snapped at him viciously. “Well you aren’t ever going to show anyone this now, you aren’t going to show anyone anything, ever again.”_ _

__

__Tony heard a scream of pain that sent horrible chills throughout his body, and it could have been real, it could have been the fury melting words together, but he could have _sworn_ that Peter was screaming for him._ _

__

__“No – o! Please, help! Ton –” And then the audio cut out completely as Carter presumably crushed the device under his foot or in his fist._ _

__

__The silence in his ear felt deafening, and the longer he went without being able to hear Peter’s breaths, the more panicked he grew. His suit was bursting through the sky at the highest speed he could increase it to, but it didn’t feel like enough. He had just heard his son being slapped and thrown against his desk as he pleaded and sobbed through the pain of it all._ _

__

__Millions of questions were flooding through his head at speeds he couldn’t decipher them all. His skull was ablaze with a flurry of emotions that threatened to drown him, and if he didn’t have such a clear goal in his mind, he would have fallen out of the sky as a panic attack washed over him. But the absolute fury that pounded through his every fibre was too strong to be thrown off course by a pitiful panic attack, not when he had his son to save from a monster who was about to discover exactly what a metal fist to the face felt like._ _

__

__After what was definitely still too long, he landed the suit right outside the building, sprinted inside, barely even waiting for the metal to disengage from his form as he made for the elevator. If he thought the ride while he was holding the Arnica cream had been horrible, this one was worse than hell. The warped mirror didn’t seem so innocent anymore, and the bump on the back of Peter’s head last Tuesday night was beginning to seem a lot less accidental than he was originally told._ _

__

__When he got to the right level, the lack of any noise coming from the apartment was even more terrifying than he could have ever imagined. The door was locked when he tried the handle fruitlessly, but it only took him four kicks until it busted open and he was stumbling into the living room through the open frame. “Peter! Pete, where are you?” There was absolute silence and he felt an icy dread, pooling and seeping up his spine when there was no response to his panicked calls. “Carter! Where’s Peter? Where is he!” He yelled, not caring if the neighbours heard as he forced his limbs forward and careened down the hallways to Peter’s room. “What the hell did you do to him?”_ _

__

__The door hung open, loose on its hinges and adorned with two fist-sized holes through the wood. He heard a horrifyingly shaky and breathy whimper and didn’t hesitate a moment before bursting into the room immediately. “Oh god… Peter!”_ _

__

__There were pieces of laptop scattered across the room and shards of glass lying amongst them. The Arnica cream had split open on the far side of the room and the entire bin it was lying beside had tipped over sideways, Tony could see the contents half strewn over the floor. Almost all of the rubbish was bandage packaging and empty bags that must have once held ice._ _

__

__So, Carter’s abuse hadn’t been a recent development then…_ _

__

__The desk lamp was lying on the floor, cracked where it had hit the ground, the contents of Peter’s desk were scattered across the room and some of the math notes were stained with drops of red. The half-crushed mic was on the floor next to the desk, and Tony pocketed it without hesitation. The chair was unsteady on its wheels and it barely held up the form slumped in it._ _

__

__Tony jumped forward to see the teen. His head was turned away, lying flat against the desk with his arms thrown wildly over the wood, which was covered in marks suggesting nails had scrabbled over the surface. His clothing was rumpled, stained with crimson, and his hair looked like someone had grabbed him by those dark honey locks, because it stuck up in all directions and the front of his head was sticky with blood as if it had been slammed against something harshly enough to split the flesh. Over the side of Peter’s face that Tony could see, he was covered in welts and marks which would definitely morph to horrific discolouration. His hairline trickled blood, there was a cut just below his eyebrow and his lip was split in two places. Where his head rested against the desk, the wood was slowly being covered in a growing puddle of blood. “Oh my god…”_ _

__

__Tony gently lifted Peter’s slumped form, moving him from the desk by leaning him back in the chair and trying to assess the wounds. His face was a bloodied mess, his nose was still trickling blood steadily and it was beginning to drip down his chin and trail in paths along the column of his neck._ _

__

__The black eye he had was even worse, it looked like someone had hit him repeatedly in the same spot, it was starting to swell shut to the point where he may not be able to open it fully. His soft face was twisted in pain and Tony felt sick. His stomach was twisting and his mind was screaming, ‘ _your fault, your fault, your fault._ ’ _ _

__

__When he leant Peter back against the desk chair, the boy startled from unconsciousness and whimpered loudly, gripping the mechanics wrist and choking on a strained and congested sob. His frail body practically writhed as he woke to the sensation of hands on him, convulsing away and shaking drops of blood over himself until his glazed eyes followed the hands up to the eyes of who was holding him steady._ _

__

__“T – T – Ton… Tony?” He mewled weakly, his voice cracking on the words. The only thing that cut through the mess of blood and contusions were the many tear tracks that ran down the boy’s cheeks like raindrops against a car window._ _

__

__“Holy shit, Peter my flight was only six minutes… what the hell happened?” He tucked a finger up into his sleeve and gingerly wiped some of the blood from a cut that was leaking towards the teen’s good eye, or more accurately, his less bad eye._ _

__

__Tony felt as if his entire being was seeping paternal instincts as he looked into the brown eyes that were so full of hurt. He traced the pad of his thumb just above Peter’s eyebrow, wiping away the trickle of blood which could have clouded his sight. He could feel the empathetic pain squeezing his heart and throat while he watched the teen still sucking in unsteady and too-rapid breaths._ _

__

__“H – he f – found… Th – the mic you l – le – left.” Peter sniffled and winced in pain as scrunching his nose irritated the injuries. His good eye twitched when the fabric of Tony’s shirt dabbed away the drop of blood that slowly fell closer to his lash line. “H – he went o – out the f – f – fire esc – escape when he h – heard you l – l – landing the suit…” his breath whistled and Tony had the cruel realisation that there was a hand shaped mark slowly beginning to form over Peter’s throat. He mentally berated himself for not thinking to power the thrustors down on the suit before he landed, so it would have been more silent._ _

__

__The boy’s voice broke and came out in a haunted whisper when he murmured his next words quietly. “H – h – he was t – try – trying to k – k – kill me…” He sobbed, and the tears began to fall again as he pitched forward, but Tony caught him in an embrace while guilt raided his heart._ _

__

__“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Pete, I should’ve – god, I shouldn’t have left, I should have stayed and done something the first time you were too quiet…” He was lightly stroking the curls at the nape of the teen’s neck and hating himself for not preventing all of this. For not stopping his son’s pain. How could he have missed this? How could he have not figured this out so much sooner?_ _

__

__If he hadn’t thought to use the mic, how much longer would this have gone on? Would he have ever saved his kid from this? Or would he have been too late… Peter said Carter was trying to kill him, was it because he found the mic, or was it because of how hard Tony had come down on him at lunch?_ _

__

__“N – no… s’ not your f – fault.” Peter’s whole body was trembling, he was smearing blood over Tony’s shirt, but he didn’t care in the slightest as he pulled the sobbing boy closer in his arms. He relished in the feeling of the breath pulling in and out of Peter’s chest, alive, alive, alive._ _

__

__Carter hadn’t killed him. His son was okay. He was breathing. Alive._ _

__

__“I’m sorry, god I’m so, so fucking sorry Peter… I could’ve protected you from this,” he didn’t know when his own eyes had welled up, but he was burying his nose in Peter’s curls and holding the back of his head tightly, so the teen’s face was nestled safely into his neck._ _

__

__“N – no, you c – c – couldn’t h – have… I lied t – to you, a – and hid s – stuff.” He gagged on another clogged, heaving sob and began a heart-breaking litany of apologies. “I – I’m sorry, I’m sorry I lied, I’m s – so sorry I lied to you. H – he was g – gonna h – hurt you if I s – said any… anything. H – he threatened t – to hurt y – you and May if I told the t – t – truth.” He took a very shaky breath and Tony could feel his body rattle and stutter with the effort to pull in enough air, almost like a well-used can of spray paint. “I j – just wan – wanted to pr – protect you n’ May… that’s why I lied, but I’m s – s – sorry! I’m s – so, so sorry…” He felt as Peter’s lip shook, an indication that he wanted to say something else, he stayed silent when the boy did whisper the shaken admission, “I c – can’t lose a – another f – father figure…” His body racked with sobs and his cries were muffled from where he was slumped against Tony._ _

__

__He finally said it. Peter called him a father figure._ _

__

__Despite the loving, adoring burn that flickered deep beside his heart, he knew he needed to put it in a box to the side for now, because his kid was bloody and hurt and needed help._ _

__

__“Pete… no, no, don’t be sorry, it’s okay, it’s okay. I can protect myself, I can protect May I’m Iron Man, shit Petey… you’re – you’re just a kid… I – I could have saved _you._ ” He pressed a kiss to Peter’s head and pulled him closer. They stayed still for a few more moments, letting Peter soak in the physical contact and try to steady his breathing while Tony tried not to hyper focus on the fact that it was one of the first times he had ever kissed Peter’s forehead._ _

__

__“T – Tony… it h – h – hurts,” he could feel his heart fracturing more as he lifted Peter carefully, cradling the back of his head as if it needed support like a young child._ _

__

__“Shh, it’s okay, I know, I know, I’m getting you to a hospital.” He paused at the broken doorway to the boy’s room, realising he only had his suit with him and nothing else. He couldn’t carry Peter in his suit, not when he was so fragile and in need of real comfort, not the cold exterior of his suit. “Okay, I need to call an ambulance for you, alright?” He kept walking until he could gently lay Peter out on the couch, his back supported by the arm rest, “Shh, shh, I’m calling an ambulance and they’ll be here really soon, I promise.”_ _

__

__He dialled the emergency number and asked for an ambulance immediately, not giving the gruesome details but simply muttering “ch – child abuse… teenager’s been attacked and… he isn’t breathing properly, please just – just come quickly.” Once he listed off the address, he hung up and dropped to his knees beside the couch, cupping the less wounded side of Peter’s face softly and holding one of his trembling hands. “H – hey kiddo, they’re on their way now, it’s not gonna hurt for much longer, okay?” Peter keened and leaned into the touch, he fell so quickly that he would have tilted off the side of the couch if Tony hadn’t caught him. The boy whined when the hand on his face went away and he leaned further forward to try and catch the mechanics fingers again._ _

__

__“P – p – please… I j – just need – I need –”_ _

__

__“Okay, okay, I’m here, I’m right here Peter.” He moved further into the teen’s eyeline and smiled reassuringly._ _

__

__“N – no, please y – you don’t understand… M – May’s never home a – and I – I just… please, I need t – to –” Tony understood, he knew May’s new work hours meant that she was barely at home when Peter was, he knew that the change of her shifts meant he was alone with Carter all the time and when he was at work, May would be asleep for her next shift._ _

__

__Peter must have been starved of any affection, it was why he had clung to Tony those few times, shaking and gripping at the hug like it was all he ever got, and that’s exactly what was happening. He needed physical affection right now, more than ever before, because May didn’t have the time, she didn’t know what was happening in her home while she wasn’t there, and her boyfriend offered nothing except violence and abuse. Not to mention, that no matter how much Tony may love his kid, he had walls up and issues of his own, some days were bad, he could barely handle touch from those he trusted, let alone strangers, and Peter understood, he always knew when it was a bad day._ _

__

__But while Tony’s bad days meant no touch, Peter’s bad days meant he _needed_ to be held, he needed to feel loved and he dissolved into any physical affection he was offered._ _

__

__“Shh, shh Pete I know, I know what you need, I understand,” Tony rested his front on the couch beside the teen and pulled him in, so they were embracing again. The boy melted into the gentle touch and whimpered happily, tension he had been holding for far too long finally fading away. He sighed and curled closer to Tony, murmuring his thanks and continuing to apologise for everything he thought he had done wrong._ _

__

__He hushed away all of his kid’s apologies before remembering what had been nagging at him since he left the apartment. He pulled back but kept both his hands rested lightly on the sides of Peter’s face. “Hey kiddo…” The boy sniffled at the loss of contact but fluttered his eyes open to look back at Tony and meet his gaze. “I love you too,” he said meaningfully, pressing as much sincerity into the words as he could. Peter looked taken aback for a moment, then he was pulled closer again and was sobbing into the mechanics shoulder._ _

__

__Tony loved him. Tony didn’t hate him, he wasn’t angry, he didn’t think Peter was pathetic or disappointing. _Tony loved him too.__ _

__

__\----_ _

__

__It didn’t take long for the medics to arrive, they had brought a stretcher up with them and they carefully manoeuvred the boy onto it. Tony kept pace right alongside them and held Peter’s hand the whole way down to the ambulance, only turning away to grab his suit which compacted into a briefcase as he passed. He clambered into the back of the vehicle with the teen, watching the medics attaching monitors onto the small form._ _

__

__One of them had cut off the hoodie and was strategically pressing down on certain areas of the chest, to check for issues in the ribs. Tony felt sick again as he saw the various tinted, shaped bruises and wounds that were blemished across the fair skin. The most upsetting thing was the fact that not all of them were fresh, most were fading yellows and greens, as if they had been there for days, weeks, possibly even months. A particularly dark wound wrapped around his slim wrists, which had been absent of the watch for some time, and Tony’s mind conjured the image of the teen being held still, pinned down helplessly by his hands._ _

__

__“Alright, we’re administering you something for the pain now, but you need to take some deep breaths even though it hurts for the moment.” The mechanic had been on enough missions to know that you were only asked to take deep breaths when you had broken ribs, to prevent pneumonia._ _

__

__“O – okay,” Peter sucked in shaky breaths obediently and winced when he did so. The ride to the hospital was quick, the paramedics were good at their jobs, getting the boy sorted out and prepped for the doctors while keeping him calm. Tony followed alongside the stretcher through the parking lot and halls until one of the nurses stopped him outside the operating theatre, telling him that he needed to let the doctors do their job and stay in the waiting room. She promised to deliver any news about Peter’s condition to him when she could._ _

__

__“I’ll be there when you wake up, I promise kiddo,” he said to the teen while his bed continued to roll further into the hospital. The boy opened his mouth to reply but another paramedic put a hand on his shoulder and instructed his breathing until they were out of sight._ _

__

__\----_ _

__

__Tony carried himself outside into the parking lot, stepping around to lean against a pillar and taking his phone out. The rough concrete rubbed up against his shirt, but he couldn’t care any less then he did in that moment, he was too focussed on trying to figure out how he would tell May. As much as he didn’t want to have to shove anybody else into the pool of guilt he as drowning in, she had the right to know what was happening._ _

__

__There were plenty of rings before her voicemail crackled over the line and he sighed before hanging up and dialling again. Luckily, she answered, her voice was strained, and he could hear plenty of background noises but couldn’t find the concentration to work out where she was._ _

__

__“Tony?” He sighed again and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand before answering._ _

__

__“May, listen I know you’re working but there’s a situa –”_ _

__

__“I’m not working, there was a minor accident and Carter called me down to the hospital as his emergency contact.” His mouth fell agape, and he hurriedly swivelled around until he found the name of the hospital he was currently standing outside._ _

__

___Not Forest Hills, please be somewhere else, Peter’s safe now, nobody can change that._ _ _

__

__“What hospital? May I need to know what hospital you’re at, now.” He squeezed the handle of his briefcase as the picture of Carter leering over Peter’s desk chair hardened in his mind and he needed to take a steadying breath._ _

__

__“Uh, it’s just Long Island Jewish Forest Hills, why? Why are you freaking out Tony? Carter’s going to be fine, he just got into a car cr –” He felt like he was seeing stars, but he could hear his feet pounding on the linoleum floors as he ran to the nearest desk and gripped the counter feverishly. The phone was pressed to his chest, away from his ear for a moment so he could talk freely._ _

__

__“I want May Parker’s room; what room is she in? She’s an emergency contact, please.” The woman behind the counter frowned, minimised her tab and pushed her glasses up slowly. She typed something in and raised an eyebrow at his white knuckled grip._ _

__

__“Room fourteen, she came in with a Carter –”_ _

__

__“Thanks,” Tony put the phone in between his shoulder and ear as he grabbed a map and walked down the hall with all the swiftness of someone who was late to work. “Okay May, I need you to listen very carefully to me. Take me off speaker phone if I’m on it,” he took a door to a stairwell and jogged up the stairs two at a time. “Now make an excuse and step out of Carter’s room, I don’t care if he wants you to stay. Get. Out.” He had walked up two levels and put the map in his mouth while he shouldered open the door to the right floor, spitting it back out and letting it flutter into a bin as he followed the numbers starting from room eight and following the hall until he was outside room fourteen. He heard muffled voices and then May was stepping out into the hallway and pocketing her phone as she saw him._ _

__

__“Tony, what’s going on? I need to be in there with Carter, he has a broken wrist from the crash –”_ _

__

__“He hit Peter.” He levelled his stare as May processed the information slowly, her reaction time delayed._ _

__

__“I’m sorry, he _what?_ ” She lowered her voice and he pulled her arm gently to guide them both further away from the closed door._ _

__

___Hehurtmykid, hehurtmyson, hehurttheonlythingIlove._ _ _

__

__“I went to the apartment and Peter had a black eye, Carter made me go out for lunch with him and everything felt wrong, he was being really aggressive, wouldn’t leave me alone with Peter or anything. I hid a mic in Peter’s room before I left… I uh, I thought it might pick something up and it…” He trailed off, his head pounding with Peter’s sobs of fear as the background soundscape for the vicious echo of a hand being brought down on his innocent face._ _

__

__“Tony, what did you hear, what the _hell_ did he do to Peter?” He could see in her eyes the seething, coiled resentment unfurling in her head, ready to lash out._ _

__

__“I didn’t hear everything, he found the mic before I could get to the apartment… May, he – he was… Carter was trying to kill him.” He heard his voice crack and he willed away the lump in his throat, trying to stay stoic until that man was nowhere near his child, let alone the same hospital, two floors away._ _

__

__May’s entire demeanour darkened violently, and Tony knew that no matter how composed May normally was in the face of grief, she was about ready to snap. Her face was paler than before, lips pressed into a hard line and arms straightened at her side, fists clenched so much that her hands trembled._ _

__

__“Tony,” she started calmly, gripping onto the leash which held back her wrath with undeniable strength. “I’m going to need you to call the police and have him arrested, I’m taking a moment alone with him,” he had the emergency contact number ready to dial but he held May’s stare, warning in his eyes._ _

__

__“You can do what you want, but I’m not leaving you alone with him,” she glared, but it wasn’t directed at Tony._ _

__

__\----_ _

__

__He leaned against the doorway, the police already on their way as he continued to watch the back of May’s head as she screamed._ _

__

__It had started out somewhat composed, she was yelling about trust, something along the lines of letting the man into her home, trusting him to treat Peter with the same dignity he treated her with. By now, the woman’s speech had dissolved into solely curses Tony didn’t think he could ever repeat._ _

__

__He understood enough Italian to know that what she was shouting probably would have gotten her arrested in some countries._ _

__Tony had gotten the first hit in, a heavy palm shoved into Carter’s nose sent a satisfying crack from underneath his hand before blood began to gush down the man’s face. He had gripped the obviously broken wrist and hissed graphic depictions of what he could accomplish with the suit on, but then May was laying a somehow placating hand on his back and he gladly stepped aside to let her calm exterior finally give way to the absolute hell she was about to unleash._ _

__

__Carter’s cheek had formed a red handprint and there was a cut on his cheekbone from one of May’s rings. He was sat upright in the bed, his eyes bulging as he frantically jabbed the call button. Tony could hear doctors and nurses as they streamed down the hall and burst into the room alongside three uniformed officers, pulling May and Tony away despite the woman still screaming obscenities in Italian at Carter._ _

__

__“Ma’am, please, I’m going to need you to step outside please, the authorities will handle this.” She pushed a nurse’s hand from her shoulder and eyed the closed door for what must have been the eighth time._ _

__

__“Don’t you ma’am me, I want him arrested right now, I don’t care if you need to cast his wrist or set his nose, he tried to kill my nephew!” The nurse caught one of the doctor’s eyes and looked to him helplessly._ _

__

__“They’re detaining him now but legally we have to provide sufficient medical care before they can take him to the police station.” Tony took out his phone and pulled out the mic, he twisted a few pieces together and slipped the device into the small slot on the side of his phone._ _

__

__“Give that to the cops in there with him, you can fix his nose and wrist from the station. Listen to what’s on that mic and then get him out of this hospital or I won’t hesitate to drag him out of here myself.” The doctor eyed his briefcase and snapped his mouth closed, opening a hand so Tony could drop the phone into his hand._ _

__

__“I, um, I – I’ll do that now then Sir,” he nodded to the nurse wordlessly and slid into the room with the police and Carter._ _

__

__“Do you need me to dress you hand for you Sir?” He waved the nurse off and stood beside May as they waited. Not even ten minutes passed before Carter was being led from the room, his wrists behind his back, a well-deserved crooked nose and his upper lip smeared with congealed blood. He was frowning, but without any leverage his glare had no real heat to it as he was walked down the hallway._ _

__

__\----_ _

__

__May huffed indignantly and her shoes clicked against the floor as she followed Tony down to the waiting area after they had watched Carter get loaded into the back of a police car. He silently led her to the chairs and made her sit down before handing her a paper cup of water, which she didn’t drink from._ _

__

__“I can’t believe I let this happen,” she whispered, staring blankly at her feet without bothering to wipe the tears that had begun to well._ _

__

__“It wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t have known May. You were working all day and neither of us knew what Carter was really doing all day.” He rubbed his hands together and ran one through his hair messily before picking at the dried blood on his shirt. _Peter’s dried blood._ “God, he was apologising to me, he kept saying he was sorry, he said it was his fault for lying.” Tony slumped in the waiting room chair and rested his head in his hands, wondering how the hell he got in this situation. His biological son was in the emergency room because he wasn’t smart enough to figure out what was happening sooner._ _

__

__“H – how bad was he?” He squeezed May’s shoulder and they both sat in solemn silence until he answered her._ _

__

__“He was having trouble breathing, s – so many old injuries when they cut off his sweatshirt, all over his arms and chest. They rushed him off pretty quickly, the nurse said she’d give me updates but… I – I don’t know how long it’ll be.”_ _

__

___I don’t care how long it is, I’ll wait here. I won’t leave your side and I won’t miss anything like this again, I won’t let anyone lay a finger on you Peter. I love you._ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got Tumblr not so long ago ~ It's agib_2002 ~ congrats because now I'm sure you can probably work out how old I am :/
> 
> I post on there - it's all Marvel (especially irondad)
> 
> BUT, I was thinking, a few people have commented and mentioned that they've read more than just one of my fics and enjoyed them, so, if anybody wants to, I'd be really happy writing asks and getting prompts or suggestions for new fic to write if you leave them on Tumblr.
> 
> So... yeah, leave an ask/suggestion if you want me to write it (or even just ask any questions you're curious about me or my writing or anything really).
> 
> <3


	6. Nap Times Over Kiddie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and May spend some time in the waiting room thinking. Peter's anesthetics wear off slowly, the doctor comes in to ask a few questions and Tony gives his son some of his own truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took a bit longer than I thought it would, I won't be as busy between now and next chapter, I finished the last of my exams so that'll free up a lot of time.
> 
> Just a warning:
> 
> There's a bit of confusion on May and Tony's side when Peter talks about Carter telling him to take his shirt off (for the belt) but that's all it is and it's cleared up really quickly.  
> Just wanted to put that out there in case anybody reading might be triggered by that, stay safe <3
> 
> I really hope you enjoy, comment if you do, I love reading them so, so, so much and I honestly appreciate and love every one of them!
> 
> Enjoy <3

The waiting room was buzzing constantly, families and couples coming in and out, people wheeling out their loved ones and helping them into a car. One of the overhead lights flickered absently, and if Tony wasn’t so busy thinking, he would have tinkered with it as a distraction. May was running her nails over the lip of an overpriced hospital coffee that tasted like warmed dirt, the inconsistent tapping of her fingers on the lid had been going steady for almost forty-three minutes now, and Tony was about ready to run head first into a wall.

 

“I’m just going to ask the lady at the desk if there’s any news on P –”

 

“There isn’t, she promised she’d come directly to us if there was, just try not to think about it,” he was being hypocritical, and he knew it. He was sitting with his hands pressed against his cheek while his mind connected all the dots from the past year.

 

The last time he could remember Peter acting like himself had been the few days before May’s promotion, which he spent at the workshop. Tony hadn’t picked up on the oddity of the situation at first, Peter had texted him as normal throughout that week, he had mentioned May’s promotion in passing, then went dead silent for a month, no phone calls, no weekly visits to the apartment, nothing. He had taken it upon himself to start dropping by the apartment, but each time he asked about the kid, Carter had said the teen was out.

 

How could he have trusted Carter in the first place? Why had he ever listened when the man told him Peter wasn’t at home? He should have been able to stop everything.

 

He counted through the times he had seen Peter, and everything began to slide into place. The first time he saw the kid after that month of silence, he had been ‘sick.’ Tony remembered how shockingly run down and exhausted the usually energetic teen had looked. He remembered how terrified Peter had been when Tony had walked into his room, how he backed up and almost stepped into his desk before realising who it was. 

 

God, he remembered the boy closing his eyes and leaning into his hand as he checked his temperature, he could still feel the smaller hand reaching up and wrapping lightly around his wrist, holding the gentle touch in its place. The knowledge that Peter had immediately held onto his wrist, as if he was trying to keep the contact for as long as he could, made his heart stutter guiltily. He should have stayed, should have pressed more, asked what was wrong, done anything other than leave.

 

That day, as he was leaving, Peter had started to say something before he caught himself and muttered about driving safely. He wondered if Peter had wanted to tell him then, that felt like so long ago though, how much had his kid endured?

 

The lock that looked like Peter had put on his door himself made too much sense now, and so did the fact that the next visit it looked like it had been ripped from the wall. Looking back now, it all seemed so stupidly obvious... the way he retreated into himself, how quiet he was, how timid and afraid of every little movement, how tired he was, how much weight he lost, how he wore long sleeves and baggy clothing even when it was warm, how he never looked like _himself_.

 

Tony felt sick when he remembered noticing how Peter had stopped doing his hair the way he normally did, he felt nausea bubbling and guilt ripping away inside him when he thought of how much he had preferred the boy’s loose, untamed curls over the combed and gelled down hair. He felt even sicker when he realised that Carter had probably used the extra length to his advantage. The horrible, jolting crash he had heard from the mic echoed through his skull, popping pictures of those piercing green eyes narrowing as that man shoved Peter’s head into the desk, leaving him bloody and unconscious.

 

“Tony… Tony?” He looked up at May, who had apparently lifted her hand from the coffee cup to rest it on his shoulder, he hadn’t even noticed the tapping stop. “You should take a quick breather, go splash some water on your face and get a drink.” The mechanic glanced at the emergency room doors, then to the receptionist who was looking lazily at her screen.

 

“Okay,” he managed, his voice barely a whisper yet still finding a way to crack emotively. “I’ll do that, you want something to drink?” He took the empty cup from her as he stood, shrugging as she shook her head no.

 

The stalls were empty, it was dark outside, and the lights didn’t flicker like they had in the waiting room. He inadvertently shuddered when the ice-cold water poured out of the faucet and drenched his cupped hands. Regretting his decision immediately, Tony leaned over the sink and splashed the water over his face, wiping his brow and cheeks before wrinkling his nose as a painfully low-quality paper towel scratched his skin dry.

 

The vending machine had just been restocked, but somehow, he still couldn’t find anything worth drinking, so he opted to pinch his nose and down a luke-warm cup of the dirt coffee May had been drinking. As he dragged himself down the hallways and back to the waiting area, he noticed numerous roaming eyes on him, and sure, it wasn’t anything he wasn’t used to. Tony Stark, Iron Man, people were bound to recognise him, but that didn’t feel like what was happening now.

 

Looking down, he saw why people must have been staring.

 

Dried blood, Peter’s blood, was still smeared across his shirt and up along the side of his neck. It was obvious that he had been holding someone who had been injured, but at the same time, it also looked like he had been brutally attacked by a vampire. Either way, it was drawing people’s eye and he didn’t want them knowing anything, he didn’t want anyone pitying him because he had been the one to cradle his broken child as he sobbed into the familiar curls, matted with wet crimson.

 

Slumping back down in the chair beside May, he began to pick at the crusted blood on his neck, where Peter had hidden his tears only hours before. 

 

Beaten, bruised, abused by someone he should have been able to trust.

 

\----

 

In some ways, the hospital waiting room was separate from the rest of the world. The clocks were slower, everyone’s heads hung, the smell of antiseptic and bacterial wipes wafted throughout the room and mixed with lingering coffee scents. It almost felt unreal, detached, to Tony as he watched people being wheeled into recovery rooms. Without fail, the sound of the doors spinning open and wheels rolling over the linoleum never failed to rouse him from where he was staring at pieces of polystyrene he had ripped up and left on the seat beside him.

 

None of the beds ever held Peter, and honestly, he was almost afraid to see the bed that eventually would.

 

May stepped outside to call her work and let them know that she wouldn’t be coming in for the next few shifts, luckily, they were understanding, but it didn’t seem to make time move any faster.

 

“You know you need to tell him now, don’t you?” He looked at May with a lost expression on his face, he didn’t feel like forcing words, so he nodded slowly and ripped apart another piece of polystyrene.

 

“I think I’m going to wait until I can get him transferred to the Med Bay for recovery, then I’ll talk to him about it.” It was May’s turn to nod, and Tony wondered whether he should have just taken Peter straight to the tower for treatment, at least then he could control when he got to see the kid, considering he owned the place. “Why was Carter here?” He hated to think about what could have happened if he hadn’t found out the man was at the same hospital, what could have happened if Carter figured out what room Peter was in.

 

“I got the call halfway through my shift, they said he’d been speeding and lost control of the car. He broke his wrist and the airbag gave him a minor concussion, but they needed someone to pick him up and take him home, so I came over and then… then you called.” She rubbed her eye, a small smudge of what must have been mascara, smeared under her eye, mixing with the grey bags slowly beginning to form as she continued to wait for any news of her nephew. So, Carter had been speeding, presumably trying to skip town before Tony found him. “D – did he just snap or was there a reason he… he tried to, k – kill Peter?” She looked visibly sick even saying the words aloud, and Tony understood how much guilt she must have been harbouring, but it wasn’t her fault the man she invited into her life turned out to be a lying child abuser.

 

“I got suspicious, I planted a mic under Pete’s desk, he came in yelling, telling the kid off for spending time with me… he called him a brat and said some things about me spoiling him. He broke a laptop and I – I think Peter tried to say he was just jealous of me, but… he, uh, he hit the desk too hard and the mic dislodged, and that’s when – that’s when Carter went off and crushed the mic, I don’t know what happened while I was flying but the room was a mess and he was gone when I got there.”

 

Snapshots from his memory of the bedroom’s state flipped through his head like a photo album, but in the back of his mind he could still remember the first time he saw it. With a little five-year-old’s hand clutching his and pulling him down the hall, into the room, the lack of any substantial decoration, the tiny rocket ship imprinted at the bottom of his starry curtains.

 

The tiny voice and massive brown orbs peering up at him, ‘ _Mister Stark, are you gonna keep visiting_?’ The small hand tugging at his sleeve as he bent down and met those impossibly wide, hazel eyes. 

 

Peter told him he was good at puzzles that day. Nine years later and he hadn’t been able to solve the puzzle that would protect the most precious thing in his life.

 

“Miss Parker? They’re moving your son to the recovery room now, surgery went well.” The receptionist smiled at May, not bothering to address Tony, who was still covered in blood.

 

“He’s my nephew, but thank you so much, can we see him?” The woman opened her mouth to respond but the doors were opening and there was a bed rolling through the doorway, bleached white blankets tucked up around a lump that somehow seemed too small to be Peter.

 

“Immediate family can follow us to his room please, uh, Sir?” The bed continued to roll even as Tony whirred impatiently alongside it, catching sporadic glimpses of fluffy curls he knew too well that poked out from underneath thick bandaging.

 

“I _am_ immediate family, just… is he okay, will he wake up soon?” The doctor looked at him closely, his eyes darting to the faded graphic shirt now stained partially red, to his stressed-mussed hair and messy workshop jeans. “Jesus, you can sign a non-disclosure form later, I’m his biological father. Try to keep it under wraps for now.” He didn’t peel his eyes away from Peter as he spoke, just kept pace with the bed and resisted the urge to curl a hand into the limp one that laid atop the blankets.

 

“He’ll wake up once the anaesthetics wear off, it’ll be a good half hour to a full one, but after that he needs to rest, and we’ll be keeping him here overnight for observation and intravenous fluids.” A nurse held open large double doors as they positioned the bed and hooked the teen up to an IV, pointing out the call button to May and telling them to press it once the boy woke. “One of our nurses will be checking in periodically and I’ll come in to discuss his condition with you once he’s woken up.” There was a smile, a final check over of the medication dosage Peter was given, and then May and Tony were sat beside the bed where an unresponsive teenager laid silently.

 

Thick, cream-coloured gauze criss-crossed over sections of Peter’s head, butterfly bandages were plastered over split skin on his forehead, temple, cheekbones, jawline and above his eyebrows. There was a brace over one of his wrists and the other one was lined with hand and fingernail marks that made Tony’s eyes squeeze shut in guilty pain.

 

Dark, shadowy bruising lay over the boy’s eye, cheekbones, jawline and drifted from his neck until it dipped below his hospital gown into areas of his small body that were still covered. Tony didn’t know if he was ready to see the damage that lingered along Peter’s back, torso and legs, let alone any internal damage that may have occurred. He kept trying to remember the exact sensation of Carter’s nose cracking under his fist and the expression he carried as the officers clipped handcuffs onto his wrists and escorted him into the back of their car.

 

His eyes stuck onto Peter’s wrists which were clouded by dark handprints and crescent shaped indents. They littered his skin and Tony could picture the hurt look on the kid’s innocent face as he whimpered from his desk chair and whispered softly that he was in pain.

 

Because of course he was in pain. How could he have not been in severe emotional and physical pain? He spent over a year stuck in the apartment with Carter, and neither Tony nor May knew what the hell had been going on behind closed doors.

 

This wasn’t okay, this was Peter Parker, his son, who had been beaten into submission and forced to keep his mouth shut about all of it for over a year. An entire year, of which over half was spent with May at work and him trapped, alone in the apartment with a monster hosting sage green eyes that were perfectly capable of lying. Eyes that hid away the pain he was inflicting on a sweet, once carefree teenager that had to lock himself in the bathroom and cry himself to sleep every night because all he got was a rough shove and a hushed threat before Carter was off to work. Whose bin was filled with old icepacks and bandage packaging, who passed out from dehydration while he was forced to trek to and from school everyday without food or a kiss-goodbye from someone who truly loved him.

 

All the phone calls, all the seemingly abrupt hugs and affection that Peter had never displayed before, they were all because he needed somebody to be there for him. He had needed someone to offset the harsh slaps and uncaring nature, and that someone had been Tony, but he hadn’t known it. God, if he had… if he had known what Peter so desperately needed for all those months, maybe things could have been different, maybe the teen could have trusted him enough to ask for help.

 

Maybe he could have saved Peter long before he ended up in the emergency room, swaddled in dressing, wrist braces and butterfly bandages.

 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, to both May and Peter, to Ben, to Mary, to Richard. To anyone who had been there for Peter and hadn’t let him down just like what he had done.

 

Let his kid down.

 

“You don’t need to be, it isn’t your fault.” May whispered right back from the opposite side of the bed, “I should be thanking you for saving him. I don’t know what I would have done if Carter had actually… if he hadn’t driven away before you got there, if – if he had really…”

 

She couldn’t say the words, but Tony knew what she was thinking. Neither of them would have ever forgiven themselves if Carter had truly managed to stop Peter’s heart. If he had wiped away the permanent light shining in that kid’s eyes, if he had left him, dead, lying at his desk for someone to find his body.

 

Tony didn’t know what he would have done if he had gotten to the apartment too late, if he had burst into Peter’s room only to find his cold, lifeless body, slumped over in his desk chair.

 

Would it have been his fault? Wasn’t all of it his fault? The whole motivation Carter seemed to operate under was that he thought Peter was spoilt and deserved to be punished when he spent time with Tony. Was every hit his fault? What had happened after Tuesday night? What did Carter do when he found out about Peter walking to the tower after climbing out the fire escape and staying the night with Tony?

 

“May, did you ever get complaints from neighbours about noise?” The woman furrowed her brow for a minute in thought before she appeared to realise what Tony was asking.

 

“I did find a formal noise complaint letter in the bin once, I think it was saying something about… yelling and wailing,” she covered her mouth with her hand and looked down at Peter with watery eyes. “I – I asked Carter about it later and he told me that him and Peter had – had watched a horror movie and must have left the volume on too loud with all the screaming… I – I didn’t even question it at the time but, oh god…”

 

“Hey, May honestly you couldn’t have known, he was manipulative… he was too good at lying to you and there wasn’t any reason for you not to trust him, he always acted differently around you, there was no way you could have known.”

 

“B – but he, Peter – he must have been…” Again, the words went unsaid, but they were perfectly clear.

 

Carter had hurt Peter to the point where he had wailed and cried hard enough for the neighbours to complain, and yet nobody had done anything to save him.

 

“I know… I know May, it’s – it’s just really hard to think about all the times I should’ve known something was wrong and I didn’t –”

 

“You can’t just put this on yourself Tony, I was the one living in the apartment, for god’s sake I dated the man that hit Peter on a regular basis!” Her voice dropped almost as quickly as it had risen, and she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear frustratedly. “I should never have agreed to living together so early… I shouldn’t have taken that promotion, I was out all day and he was – Peter was alone with him for so much time.”

 

“And I should never have driven back home, I should have ditched the mic and just decked Carter then and there as soon as I saw the black eye. Look, we both let things slip past, but if we spend all our time pointing fingers at ourselves –”

 

“Peter won’t have anyone to help him recover… yeah, I know.” She sighed but smiled weakly, a finger brushed over the blanket beside Peter’s hand and Tony leant over to do the same, his hand cupping the limp fingers and rubbing gentle circles over his thumb fondly.

 

“He’ll be okay… I’ll make sure he’s okay.” Tony meant what he said with every fibre of his soul, with every little reassuring squeeze he pressed into Peter’s unmoving hand he grew even surer of his own capability to hold his son tight and never let him go again. “I’m gonna make sure you’re okay kiddo, I promise you’ll be okay now.”

 

As the hour dragged past, May left for another cup of coffee, his head slowly dipped forward until it was rested on the mattress beside Peter’s jutting hipbone, and his hand still gripped, fingers intertwined with his kid’s. Tony vaguely acknowledged the nurse who checked in on the room once or twice and he lifted his head tiredly when May came back, but other than that he kept his cheek rested on the scratchy hospital sheets and watched Peter’s chest rise and fall.

 

“He should be waking up very shortly, and the doctor will come in and talk about his condition and recovery with you.” The nurse smiled sweetly, and May thanked her as Tony drew lazy circles over the back of Peter’s hand. “He’ll be incredibly drowsy from the anaesthetics but please let me know if he’s experiencing any pain.”

 

Peter’s face was even, none of the familiar timidity that he expressed when he had been conscious was present. His lips were slightly parted, his eyelids moved as his eyes flickered beneath them and the raspy whistling sound he had made before surgery was gone. The teen looked so much younger and smaller, wrapped in bandages and laid out in a large hospital bed, it hurt to see him looking so painfully vulnerable and _hurt_. The thick, oversized sweatshirts had covered more than just the hand and fingernail marks, they had masked just how underweight the boy had gotten, his wrists were bony, and his elbows jutted out. The obviously malnourished state Peter was in created a sense of weakness and fragility that made Tony just that more protective, pushed him over the edge to the point where he needed to hold his son’s hand and keep him close for fear of anything else happening to the child who had already endured so much more than he should ever have had to.

 

“His monitor,” May breathed quietly, her eyes flicking between Peter’s face and the heart rate monitor, which was beginning to pick up slightly. Tony shuffled in his chair, shifting closer to Peter as he waited with a pool of anxiety in his chest.

 

Would Peter hate him for not saving him quicker? How terrified would he be of every little movement now? What emotional state would he even be in?

 

Peter’s breath hitched slightly, and his small fingers tightened in Tony’s hand, which he squeezed back reassuringly.

 

“Hey kiddie, nap time’s over,” he whispered softly, trying too hard to keep the wobble from his voice as he willed it not to crack with the overload of emotion that flooded him as the teen stirred.

 

\----

 

Peter could feel his mind and body slowly starting back up like a delayed computer, it was dark, he felt slow and somewhat hazy as his fingers tensed in reaction. It took him some time to work out where his body was and what he could feel, but luckily, he didn’t notice much pain. Everything felt heavy and uncomfortably stiff as he clawed his way back to consciousness. Eventually, sounds began to swirl into effect, he heard a steady bleeping, distant humming and shoes clicking back and forth on linoleum. Muffled voices came next, and it took his head a surprising amount of time to pick apart the words, so he could fully process them for what they were.

 

“Are you telling him?” May. That sounded like May, which meant she was okay.

 

_May’s okay, she’s okay, Carter didn’t hurt her, she’s okay, she’s okay_.

 

“About what’s happening to Carter or… or the other thing?”

 

_TonyTonyTony, he’s here, he’s here, he loves me too. Tonylovesmetoo_.

 

What’s happening to Carter? Where was he? He couldn’t remember what had led him to this point, why everything smelt so clean and why he was lying, floating in a tough mattress with scratchy blankets and the insistent beep of some type of machinery. 

 

Peter could piece together snippets if he tried hard enough, he remembered the floor against his cheek as Carter’s belt tore apart his back, how he bit down on his arm to muffle cries. He could see Tony, fingering through his homework before tilting his chair and locking onto his eye, a look on his face that didn’t register as anything happy.

 

The crushing weight of sitting at his desk while Tony was out, alone with Carter, knowing that as soon as the man came home he would be paying the price for time spent with the closest thing he had to a father. 

 

Arnica cream and a hug that he didn’t instigate, because Tony had been the one to, he leaned down and pulled Peter into his chest while Carter stood only feet away with a piercing look on his face. He smelled like coffee and the metallic, greasy scent of the workshop that he had become so accustomed to.

 

A tear, blazing a path down his cheek for many more to follow, as he told Tony ‘I love you.’

 

The slam of a door, the weak, pitiful stuttering of his own sobs as he waited for the inevitable.

 

Fists. Hands in his hair. Yelling. Threats. Pain, pain, pain that he couldn’t escape from unless he was willing to let someone he loved take the hit instead, and he would never be okay with that.

 

A degrading slap across his cheek that stung as much as all the words did. His face forced down into the unforgiving wood of his desk and the almost inaudible pop as something dislodged from underneath it. The small, black mic that he hadn’t ever seen before, held in Carter’s hand along with the most outraged, ferocious, and wrathful expression which peeled across his face like fire.

 

‘ _You aren’t ever going to show anyone this now, you aren’t going to show anyone anything, ever again_.’

 

Carter was going to kill him, he was going to die, and he never told Tony how much he meant. He was never going to apologise for lying, he was never going to tell May he was sorry that he wasn’t good enough to make her as happy as Carter could.

 

He was sorry, he was so, so sorry.

 

He was going to die…

 

\----

 

“Pete? You with us sweetie?” May leaned forward in her chair and watched as Tony rubbed Peter’s hand encouragingly.

 

“Hey buddy, you’re okay,” Tony kept his voice hushed, his movements minimal as he felt Peter slowly starting to return his grip. “Hi, hey kid,” the boy’s eyelashes were fluttering, and he moved into his eyeline, watching with a small smile as the doe eyes slowly flicked open, batting a few times before one of them squinted awkwardly around the still black eye. “Peter,” he whispered fondly, affection willingly soaking his voice as he felt himself softening when confused, brown eyes met his.

 

“M – Mister St… T – Tony?” The billionaire had never understood why the kid had insisted on calling him Mr. Stark for so long, but once he finally slipped into the habit of just Tony, things were better. Whenever the teen was scared, tired or genuinely not paying attention, he would stumble and mix the names up, it hadn’t happened since he was younger, but Carter’s influence had clearly wavered that confidence. 

 

Peter’s head lolled on the pillows and his gaze floated across the bed to where May was smiling too. “May,” he sighed quietly, his eyes drifting back to Tony’s. “Wh – Wh…”

 

“You’re okay, we’re in a hospital, everything’s alright now, he’s gone. You’re safe.” Something about Tony’s reassurance let Peter’s crumpling barricade drop, and his lip wobbled as he clutched the mechanics hand even tighter. “You’re safe now,” he repeated, reciprocating the teen’s desperate need for closeness.

 

“I – I don’t… I didn’t m – mean to, I – I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Tony’s smile dropped slightly as he shook his head. Peter didn’t need to be sorry, he was okay now, everything was okay.

 

“No kid, it’s okay, don’t apologise. Hey, hey,” he rose deliberately from his chair and moved up along the side of the bed until he was stood beside the pillows keeping Peter’s head up. “I’m here kiddo, c’mere.”

 

Tony stroked the pad of his thumb over Peter’s chin gently, letting him reach out gingerly to cling at his other arm instinctively. “I got you, I know,” the teen’s hands were shaking slightly but he gladly pushed closer to the embrace, letting himself be coddled as his constant nerves restrung themselves. He felt May rubbing an unbandaged section of his shoulder warmly, she was shushing his fear and murmuring comforts much like Tony’s.

 

“The doctor’s coming in soon, you want some water?” May was holding a plastic cup and he nodded stiffly, holding Tony’s hand even as he pulled back to let him drink. His throat was dry and scratchy as he swallowed the water, but it was nice to feel the hand holding his tighten in response to his small cough of discomfort.

 

“I – I don’t remember h – how I got here… Wh – what happened?” His voice was croaky and weak, but he continued to tug at the short sleeves of his hospital gown, feeling uneasy as his injuries were on display for the first time in a long time.

 

“What’s the last thing you remember Pete?” Tony glanced to May, worry flashing through his expression momentarily. Had he hit his head too hard? Did the kid have temporary amnesia?

 

“Y – you…” Peter picked at a stray blanket thread and knew that now wasn’t the right time to freeze up and cover his face as a flush tinted his cheeks. “You love me t – too,” he said quietly, not looking up into Tony’s eyes.

 

The small circles being rubbed over the back of his hand stilled, and for a moment the boy feared he had said the wrong thing, that no, the playboy Tony Stark and the hero Iron Man, could never love a spoiled brat like Peter Parker.

 

But without fail, like every other time in his life, Tony smiled and brushed a faint knuckle over Peter’s unbruised cheek with a paternal fondness glowing in his eyes which the teen failed to recognise.

 

“Yeah, I love you too kiddo, course I do.” May beamed at the two and had the same understanding smile on her face as Peter reached out a hand and Tony indulged the movement with a second embrace. “I love you so much, don’t ever forget that, okay?”

 

“I won’t,” Peter promised from where his chin was rested on the man’s shoulder, burying his full-faced blush. After a long delay, Tony pulled back and looked at the boy more, before answering his question.

 

“I called an ambulance, they brought you here. The doctor’s coming now, and he’ll talk to all of us about… about how you’re doing.” He curled a finger under Peter’s chin and met his eyes seriously, “you’ll tell me if you start to feel any pain, or if you start to get sick from the anaesthetics wearing off?” The teen nodded and let Tony twirl a stray curl around his finger, purposefully ignoring the bandages and instead taking the time to give more comfort for the child that seemed so much smaller than what he had ever been before.

 

A soft knock on the door had Peter’s hand tightening, but Tony let his fingers dip down to the nape of his neck, so he could placatingly stroke at the curls that rested there. “You’re okay,” he murmured as May waved the doctor in before dropping her hand back to Peter’s shoulder.

 

“Hi Peter…” the man squinted at his board before straightening up and tapping a pen against the paper, “Peter Parker.” The teen managed a meek smile which felt too much like the ones he had given Tony and May when they asked him questions he couldn’t answer honestly. “Can I ask how you’re feeling? Any pain, discomfort, trouble breathing at all?” Peter shook his head and the doctor looked pleased at that. “Well, I’m Doctor Marshall, I’ll be discussing your condition and asking a few questions. Let me know if you start to feel sick, you may have some nausea as the anaesthetics make their way out of your system.”

 

Peter could feel Tony’s body shifting closer to him as the man flicked a sheet of paper over and took a breath before speaking. “So, the biggest focus we had for you in surgery was sorting out the multiple fractured ribs, they weren’t particularly recent injuries, do you mind telling me when exactly they occurred?”

 

“Uh, t – two days ago, I think.” He felt like squirming under the three pairs of eyes that seemed to be on just him, but only because eyes on him meant he had done something wrong.

 

“Alright, we’ve put in some titanium plates to stabilise the fractured and cracked ribs, just so we can make sure they heal properly.” The doctor didn’t seem threatening, in fact, he was clearly making the effort to speak at a lower volume, he was situated a few steps away from the bed and he wasn’t making any movements closer to where Peter was laid. “You’ve sustained a linear skull fracture, but with the amount of bruising and tissue damage around your head, you also seem to have a grade three concussion. I’m going to ask a few simple questions just to completely rule out any serious brain damage, alright?” Tony watched the teen nod, he squeezed his hand in reassurance and made sure his warm smile was visible. “Can you tell me where you are?”

 

“I – in a hospital,” Doctor Marshall nodded and checked something on his board with a tick.

 

“And can you state your full name for me?” The pen hovered above his page.

 

“Peter B – Benjamin Parker,” he answered, listening to the scribble of pen on paper as Tony’s finger rubbed over the back of his hand comfortingly.

 

“Can you give me your age and read that clock on the wall?” Peter blinked before doing what the man asked, relaxing as he nodded once more. “That’s very good, I’m happy to move on now,” he flipped over to a second page and shifted his weight to the opposite leg, resting the clipboard against his hip and twiddling the pen in his opposite hand. “Your wrist fracture should heal nicely, but you’ll need to keep the brace on to limit too much movement. The shin bone was bruised so we’ve propped it up to relieve swelling and I’m going to prescribe some nonsteroidal anti-inflammatory drugs for that, along with some pain relievers for the ribs, which we’ll slowly wean you off.”

 

The doctor picked the board up and held it closer to his chest, his eyes meeting Peter’s with a more serious look on his face. “Now, Peter, are you comfortable with me discussing your back, or would you prefer more privacy?”

 

Tony’s eyebrow peaked, May tilted her head to look at her nephew concernedly as his face reddened and his fingers tightened once again. “I’m happy to speak with May and Tony outside, but I’m going to need to ask some more questions for legality reasons.” Peter opened his mouth to answer, he was calmed when Tony’s spare hand reached up to his upper arm and rested there gently, as if providing silent support.

 

“I – I’m okay. You… you can ask h – here,” his shoulders raised minutely, and he chewed the inside of his lip worriedly.

 

“Alright, thank you.” With Peter’s answer, the Doctor seemed ready to directly address Tony. “I’m aware that when you called the ambulance you notified them that this was a case of child abuse, is that correct?” He had turned to face Tony, and the mechanic nodded once, keeping his hand over Peter’s as he did so. “Right well, I’m going to asks you some questions Peter, if you’re feeling overwhelmed or don’t feel comfortable answering anything, let me know.” Doctor Marshall waited for a nod of approval from the teen before he turned a page on his clipboard and clicked his pen. “I’m going to need to focus on your back, and it’s important for us to understand how exactly it occurred. Could you tell me who is giving you these injuries?” Peter swallowed, and his finger twitched, “just their name and their relationship to you, nobody is going to be upset, you aren’t in trouble.”

 

“His… his name’s C – Carter, he’s my a – aunts’ boyfriend.” May’s lips stretched thinly, and Tony knew she was harbouring the guilt, much like he was.

 

“Perfect, thank you for that,” again, another flick of his pen on the page and his eyes darting as he read aloud the next question. “Who else, if there was anybody else involved, saw it happen?” Peter hesitated, as if thinking.

 

“I – I don’t know… it – it happened in… it’s happened in public before, but I don’t know if anyone s – saw it.” The boy looked down at his lap and then spoke softly, “b – but nobody else saw him, um, m – my back I mean.” The doctor nodded in understanding, but May and Tony were still lost.

 

“Nobody was there when the injury on your back occurred, it wasn’t in public?” Peter shook his head and blew out a shaky breath, silently wishing he could just go back to Tuesday night and scream for help as Carter’s rough hand pulled him across the crosswalk while he tried desperately to catch the eye of the multiple taxi driver’s waiting for them to pass.

 

“No,” he whispered quietly, “n – nobody saw, no one was there, it – it was at home.” Tony pulled in air through his nose and focused on the residual memory of Carter’s nose cartilage snapping underneath his open-palmed hit.

 

_He wasn’t there for Peter then, but he was now. He was watching now, the apartment, the lab, that was home for his kid and he was never going to feel threatened in his home again._

 

“Alright, just a few more questions. When did this occur? Time of day, how long it lasted, anything you can remember.”

 

“Th – three days ago, in the morning… when I t – tried to leave for school.” The doctor was writing down what he said, and when he looked up and tilted his hand, Peter continued. “I – I don’t know how long it was, I uhm…” Peter looked away again, staring down at the blankets, frowning like they had done something to offend him as his cheeks heated again. “I passed out, s – so I don’t know, s – sorry.”

 

“No need to be sorry, that’s completely fine.” The doctor did seem mildly concerned when Peter said he had been unconscious, but nothing showed on his face. “Could you estimate how long you were out for? The concussion could be to blame.”

 

“S – sometime from about eight till h – he was leaving for work. I – I woke up when he left, that’s all I know,” the teen was looking at the hand that was latched onto Tony’s, and it squeezed gently. “I don’t… I don’t know if he – if he kept going after I p – passed out or not.”

 

Tony and May were growing more concerned, and they ached to ask what exactly Carter had done to Peter’s back. The doctor was more focused on working through the questions he was required to ask, taking it at a pace the boy seemed comfortable with.

 

“Can you describe how the injury occurred? We were able to make some assumptions based on your condition when you came in, but I’d like to be certain so that when the incident is looked over in court, or you press charges, file restraining orders, anything of the type, we can use this to support your case.” The man looked over to May, “it’s entirely up to you and Peter, you don’t need to worry about it now, but we need to get as much detail as possible for medical records.” May and Tony nodded, and they stayed silent for Peter to answer when he was ready.

 

“It… h – he just…” Peter drew a shaky breath and his lips began to tremble as he tried to force himself to speak. His throat felt clogged and the all too familiar weight was beginning to slowly press back down on his chest, despite Tony’s steadying hand squeezing his own.

 

All he could hear was the buckle dragging across the wood as Carter stalked towards him. The wall behind him as he backed up too far, his eyes glistening when he finally realised there was nothing he could do.

 

“H – he – he…” Peter’s eyes burnt, and his scratchy throat formed a small lump that only seemed to grow the more he thought about the feeling of Carter’s work boot digging into the small of his back as hot breath glazed across his ear while whispered threats dripped from behind him. “He was in th – the lounge. I came out of my room, f – for school I mean, I – I had to walk to school –”

 

“I thought he dropped you off at school in the mornings, why were you walking to school? Especially after Tuesday night, I didn’t want you walking.” May’s face was pinched, the hand that wasn’t laying on Peter’s shoulder was clenched into a fist and Peter tried not to think about what Carter’s fist clenching meant.

 

“He… he never drove me to school,” his face was flushing again, and his eyes were welling without his permission. “N – never got lunch money either,” Peter sighed as his breath hitched, “he used it for coffee.”

 

“If you walked to and from school every day, never got lunch money, why didn’t you ever sit down and eat with me on weekends? Sweetie, you could have asked me for more foo –”

 

“I wasn’t allowed,” his voice was small, and despite the way his head was hung, Tony knew there were tears. “Not allowed to come out of m – my room, he – he… he made me throw up if he s – saw me eating.” Tony’s fist tightened, and Peter sniffled, Doctor Marshall lifted his hand to slow the onslaught of questions, but the mechanic ploughed forward.

 

“He made you throw up?” Peter nodded weakly, “how? Did he – did he force you to make yourself throw up?” Tony was about ready to throw up himself at the thought of Carter shoving his fingers down Peter’s throat until he gagged. “Did he do it himself, or was it –”

 

“N – no, no. He never… he didn’t do that, just – just hit me until it hurt s – so much I couldn’t keep it down.” Tony gritted his teeth together but was silently thankful Carter hadn’t made his son puke with his own fingers. Peter lifted his second hand to tug at the man’s sleeve and bury his face in his shoulder. “M’ sorry, I – I didn’t even realise I had lost that m – much weight until you said something.” He made an unconscious attempt to hide his tears and red-rimmed eyes, but his body loosened as he felt Tony rubbing his neck, avoiding his back for good reason.

 

“Peter, do you need me to step outside for a minute, give you some time to relax before we keep going?” He shook his head.

 

_He wasn’t weak, he could answer some questions. It wasn’t as if anything was still happening, Tony had said Carter was gone, he was fine._

 

“M’ okay, s – sorry, you can keep going,” he leaned back from the embrace and shakily wiped his eyes with the hand which wasn’t adorned with a wrist brace. The doctor paused, he looked between the three of them and then back down to his clipboard before finally nodding.

 

“Did you want to continue describing how the injury occurred?” May rubbed his shoulder and Tony’s arm didn’t fall from his neck. “He was in the lounge, you came out of your room for school, that’s where we were at.” Peter took an unsteady breath and focused on the feeling of Tony and May’s grounding touches, tethering him to the solid lump of safety that they created for him.

 

“He just m – made me sit down, a – and I did,” he paused, trying to think of a way to explain what had happened next without giving anyone the wrong impression.

 

The words were simple, they made sense, but he was smart enough to know exactly what conclusions Tony and May would jump to. “It – it isn’t… it’s not what you think b – but he t – told me to… to take my shirt off,” the hand around his own squeezed tightly and he could see as May’s hair shifted when she abruptly turned to face him. The colour drained from Tony’s face and his mouth clenched further shut as he tightened his hold on Peter. “I didn’t know wh – why he told me to a – and he got mad when I tried t – to ask,” he didn’t think about how nobody in the room seemed to be breathing, everything was painfully quiet as he continued to stutter out an explanation. “H – he threw a remote… s – said he would make it worse if I didn’t… if I didn’t hurry up. I – I did it… m’ sorry, I was – I was already… everything already h – hurt so much and I just – I just couldn’t l – let it hurt any more than it already did.”

 

“P – Peter, did – did he… fuck kid, did he touch y –”

 

“No!” He cut Tony off desperately, “n – not that, h – he didn’t – it wasn’t that, he didn’t do _that_.” The tenseness in the room remained, and the teen started breathing harder, fearing the possibility that nobody would believe him. He stiffened his grip on Tony’s hand, scrabbling to shake his head frantically, to make them understand.

 

“Hey, Pete, it’s okay. I – if he did, it isn’t your fault, it would never be your fault. He’s messed up in the head and he’s never coming anywhere near you again, you can tell us the tru –”

 

“No! N – no, please T – Tony I’m not lying, I s – swear, I swear he didn’t. P – please believe me, I’m not lying, it wasn’t a – anything like that, he just u – used his belt to h – hit me! N – nothing else, I swear, please… please.” The doctor clicked his pen shut and waved a placating hand to clam Peter, whose breathing was beginning to hitch again as Tony’s face paled even more and May lifted her own hand to cover her mouth in horror.

 

“Hey, it’s completely fine Peter, we believe you. Everything’s okay, we understand you’re telling the truth here, it’s alright –”

 

“He did what? Peter, you just said he _belted_ you, what the hell?” Tony was looking him directly in the eyes, the serious realisation of what the teen had just said split his gaze with feverish concern and anger for the man who hurt his kid. May was shaking her head side to side, hand still covering her mouth while her eyes welled, much like how Peter’s were beginning to.

 

“I’m sorry, I am, I’m sorry! I – I couldn’t run, m – my leg and he was holding me, I – I wasn’t strong enough. I’m sorry, m’ really sorry, I d – don’t want you t – to think… to think I’m w – weak, I – I t – tried to get away b – but the wall was in the way and he was j – just in front of me, I wasn’t fast enough.” His voice cracked as the first tear rolled down his cheek and Tony surged forward immediately to rectify Peter’s fright.

 

“No, no you’re not weak, god kiddo.” He gently shifted the boy, so he could tuck himself into the embrace without hurting himself. Peter shuddered as he buried his face away and clung to the back of Tony’s shirt as he tried to hold in his sobs. “I would never think that, don’t say sorry,” he looked up to May and she seemed to have held her tears back by sheer force of will as she pointed to Peter and mouthed ‘now.’ He bit his lip as the doctor stepped back and May had a hushed conversation with him by the door before letting him slip out to give the three privacy while Peter calmed down.

 

“Tony,” May murmured from her chair, “I think you shou –”

 

“Peter,” he nodded wordlessly, cutting her off to do what she was telling him to. “Pete, c’mon kiddo, I need you to look at me for this please.” He waited as Peter untucked his face and looked up at him through wet lashes, his lower lip still quivering as he bottled his anxiety. “Kid, I – I think we need to have a talk, there’s… there’s something I need to tell you the truth about and I should have told you sooner.” He sighed and looked up to the ceiling as if it held the answers, Peter was blinking up at him, his eyes still slightly red and his cheeks damp from the few tears that slipped past before Tony could wrap the teen in an embrace.

 

“It’s about your Mum Peter,” May scooted her chair forward and Peter held the hand she offered, still keeping his other arm around Tony as his head leant against his chest.

 

“O – okay, I uhm, I – I didn’t know you knew her that well,” the boy waited until Tony dropped his eyes from the ceiling and looked down at him. “I – is it a good talk or… or a b – bad one?” The genius scrunched his nose up and rubbed his face with the one hand which wasn’t wrapped around Peter.

 

“Honestly kiddo, I don’t kno –”

 

“It’s a good talk Peter, you’re gonna be really happy okay? I promise, Tony’s just working himself up over nothing.” He turned to look at May, an eyebrow raised, “what? You are, I told you he’d be over the moon, don’t deny it.” Tony shook his head, the small smile dropping from his face as he seriously thought about how he was going to tell Peter.

 

“I uh, I guess I’ll start at the beginning then, huh?” Peter was watching him, listening curiously, and Tony could almost see the gears whirring in his head as he processed every word. “I went to a press event, it wasn’t for Stark Industries specifically, just… uh, general scientists who were all working on something big.” He glanced back to May who was urging him on with her eyes, “I met your mum, she was… she was really nice, and I – I bought her a drink and… god, I’m sorry kid, this is – this is really not supposed to be this hard to say…” Peter was still staring at him with his large eyes, the redness was fading as well as the drying tear tracks. “We… we had a night? I – in a hotel… aaand that was kinda it for me, at least for the next four or so years I guess.”

 

“Um, okay? I – I don’t know why you uh, why you waited so long to say that? You slept with my mum, before my dad did, that’s… that’s fine.” He shifted slightly, repositioning so he didn’t have to crane his neck to look up at Tony’s face. “Just… if that was it for f – four years, when did you meet May and Ben? A – and why four years, what happened after four years?”

 

“Um… after four years I… I got Mary’s official will sent to me,” he kept a careful eye on Peter’s face, watching for any signs of discomfort or the painful look he got when he was trying not to think about a hard memory. “When I got the will, it was… it – it said that in the case of Mary’s passing I was supposed to be told… told that I uh…” Tony’s eyes flicked away from Peter’s, back to May, then around the room and back to the teen, he stared at the boy for a moment, the pause lingered on as he thought.

 

Once he said the words, there was no going back, if Peter reacted badly, despite what May said, it would have a lasting impact on their relationship. He couldn’t take back the truth and he couldn’t hide it from Peter anymore, he needed to put it out there and let the kid decide how he wanted to proceed, because this was all about Peter now. The child he called his son, who had been through hell for over a year, was going to have the freedom to control his own life and the people in it, and if the kid made the choice to keep his biological father close, he would oblige with a smile on his face.

 

If Peter decided he didn’t want that… Tony would give him what he wanted.

 

Because if Peter hadn’t felt like he was given the option to remove someone like Carter from his life, Tony refused to become the second monster.

 

“Peter, kid…” he fixed the boy with a levelled gaze, he hugged the teen close to his side, silently hoping it wasn’t the last embrace they would ever get. “Mary decided that if she ever passed away, I deserved to know that…”

 

He bit the inside of his cheek so harshly it stung, he tried to memorise what the rise and fall of Peter’s chest felt like against his own, the way the fluffy, chestnut curls brushed his neck when he turned his head to take in the wide, hazel eyes so much like his own.

 

“To know that,” he closed his eyes and took a breath, “that…” he let it out slowly and opened his eyes. “That I was your real Dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER! I swear Peter's reaction won't be held back from you for too long, just until next chapter!
> 
> <3 <3 <3
> 
> I got Tumblr not so long ago ~ It's agib_2002 ~
> 
> I post on there - it's all Marvel (especially irondad)
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> A few people have commented and mentioned that they've read more than just one of my fics and enjoyed them, so, if anybody wants to, I'd be really happy writing asks and getting prompts or suggestions for new fic to write if you leave them on Tumblr.
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> So... yeah, leave an ask/suggestion if you want me to write it (or even just ask any questions you're curious about me or my writing or anything really).
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> <3


	7. Thanks Dad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony is practically sitting on the edge of his hospital grade chair, waiting for Peter's delayed reaction...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Story finished, I hope you like the ending and that the story as a whole was enjoyable.
> 
> I love each and every one of you who leave comments and kudos or those of you who come and follow me on tumblr too <3
> 
> I uwu all and hope you enjoy!
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> <3

“ _To know that,” he closed his eyes and took a breath, “that…” he let it out slowly and opened his eyes. “That I was your real Dad_.”

 

Tony could feel his heart in his throat, it was pounding away as he stared down at his son. With eyebrows peaked up at the front, and parted lips, he waited with bated breath, hoping with everything he had that dragging himself out of his kid’s life wasn’t going to be the end result. God, it _hurt_ , the silence that seemed to stretch on further and further as he sat, analysing every little thing the boy did, praying and pleading to who or whatever was out there, that he could stay with him forever.

 

“Y – y – you… you’re – you’re my – my _Dad_?” Peter’s eyes were glistening again, and Tony had absolutely no indication of whether that was a good sign or not, so he kept the sincere and worried expression on his face as he swallowed thickly and nodded his head. 

 

Good, he thought, Peter had established and processed the words and hadn’t yet burst into tears or screamed at him for keeping the truth hidden away for so long. “M – me? I – _I’m_ your son and you’re – _we’re_ biologically related? B – by blood?” Okay, he was still in the process of registering what the words had meant, but that didn’t stop Tony from tensing up even more as he stayed suspended between the reality of _my kid loves me_ and _he hates me for never telling him_.

 

“Yeah,” he answered softly, holding his voice together with emotionless duct tape as he willed it not to crack. “Yeah Pete, I uh… I – I’m your Dad and you’re…” he lifted a shaky hand and brushed his thumb lightly over Peter’s temple, where a stray lock of his hair had curled up into a ringlet, “and god… you – you’re my _son_.”

 

Peter was silent, his lips had peeled apart, and his eyebrows were furrowed as he thought. The honey-brown eyes Tony recognised in himself were staring off at a random spot on the wall just behind him. If he listened hard enough, he would probably be able to hear the whirring of Peter’s thoughts as they whizzed around inside his head and connected to form an understanding of what had just been unveiled.

 

_Just like slipping the last puzzle piece into place._

 

Tony wondered if he could count the fact that Peter’s fist was still clutching the fabric of his shirt as a positive, but the lingering quiet that hung from the boy and surrounded them was beginning to grow worrying, much like the cloud of doubt which accumulated deep within him.

 

“Peter, sweetie,” the teen blinked multiple times, he was close enough to Tony that the man could see his dark eyelashes fluttering together like butterfly wings. Peter turned his head slightly to look at May and she smiled softly at him, nodding her head towards Tony. 

 

The flush was immediate, it flooded from the tips of his ears, across his cheeks, over his nose and even began to spread down his neck before he could bury it in Tony’s neck.

 

_His Dad’s neck_ …

 

Peter lifted his arms suddenly and they moved to wrap around the back of the mechanic’s neck, his nose pressed against the pulse point which thrummed steadily underneath soft skin. His eyes squeezed shut on their own accord, and despite the stiff numbness that still radiated from his ribs and wrist, Peter squeezed as tightly as he could.

 

“ _Thank you_ ,” he whispered, pouring every drop of appreciation, sentiment and warmth that he could possibly force from his lips into those two words that he needed Tony to understand more than anything else. “I – I don’t know what to – what to say… I just…” Peter sucked in a massive gulp of air before it whooshed out of his lungs along with a string of words that Tony had to pick apart in order to understand. “ _Thankyousomuch_ ,” he could feel the teen pulling himself even further into his chest, the smaller head was nestled on his shoulder and curls were ticking his jawline as he reciprocated the embrace. “You have no I – idea how much this means, thank you, thank you, _thankyouthankyouthankyou_.”

 

“Are you seriously saying thank you to me because I knocked someone up fourteen odd years ago?” He smiled as he dropped his face down to rest on Peter’s head as he gently settled his arms around his sides, relishing in the knowledge that he hadn’t hit the eject button on his relationship with the kid.

 

“No… well y – yeah I guess, I – I mean… thank you for _staying_.” Peter was clinging closer than Tony had ever seen, there was a wrist brace resting on the nape of his neck, an angular chin leant on his shoulder and an underfed teenager with sharp limbs practically draped over his lap, but he didn’t care in the slightest. Tony could stay protectively curled around the boy for days, and the jutting bones wouldn’t have had any impact on how much relief was filling his chest as Peter willingly nuzzled his face closer.

 

He had never felt more content in his life, and the more he focused on the intensity of his love for the boy before him, the more it felt like a beam of sunlight splitting through storm clouds and forming a column that he could pull Peter into. Tony would use the light of his growing affection to shelter Peter from that storm, the one that had been brewing and coiling until it rained down and left the teen unconscious, teary-eyed and bloodied, alone in his room after the hurricane had made its best effort to snuff out his light. The brightness that hung inside Peter and his everlasting strive to be _enough_.

 

“For staying?” Tony parroted confusedly, meeting May’s eyes from across the bed as Peter mumbled something into his neck quietly. He could feel the warm puffs of air blowing across his collarbone and could see as his own exhales ruffled through Peter’s soft, chocolate waves where his chin rested.

 

“For staying with me,” Peter murmured lightly, wishing he could make Tony fully understand what he was trying to say.

 

_Thank you, for wanting to meet me, for building that puzzle, holding my hand and promising you’d keep visiting me. Thank you, for everything you’ve ever given me, topped with a red and gold bow, for every lonely night I could look up at my ceiling and see the stars you had hung just for me. Thank you, for fighting your way back home after Afghanistan, for filling the gaps left behind when Ben died, letting me learn with you in the workshop and knowing when I was having a bad day._

 

_Thank you, for worrying about me when I started to slip away, for taking me out of the apartment and making sure I was fed, letting me latch onto you in the car like a shadow. Thank you, for the affectionate words and touches that wiped away a month’s worth of pain and cruel insults, for the days you would simply let me pretend things could be okay while you sat close and tinkered mindlessly by my side, or your gentle hands that shook with worry when you saw the bruises I couldn’t hide._

 

_Thank you, for catching me when I stumbled, for holding me while I broke down and collapsed on your workshop floor into broken fragments of who I used to be, heating up soup and playing with my hair while I slept soundly for the first time in months. Thank you, for letting me sob in your arms as the echoes of those drunk men in the alley filled my mind, for holding an icepack against my head and washing away the dirty gravel that stuck to my wounds, snarling at the man who made me bleed and slamming the door in his face as you noticed me cowering away._

 

_Tony… Dad… Thank you for saving me, for staying with me, for being there_.

 

“Yeah, for staying with me… f – for _loving_ me,” Peter’s voice crackled emotionally, his hand clenched tighter and Tony trusted himself enough to tilt his head and press a feather-light kiss to the crown of his head, minding the bandages that still covered parts of his skull. He smiled into the fluffy hair as Peter squeezed even tighter and nudged himself impossibly closer when he felt the delicate kiss. “Thank you,” he whispered almost silently, Tony’s lips curled even further upward, and he shut his eyes contently, shifting more of his weight back so he wasn’t holding Peter at an awkward angle.

 

“Kay kiddo, think it’s safe to say this is a good talk, huh?” He felt the amused huff against his neck in response and buried his quickly broadening smile in the curls he had adored for so long.

 

“I – I’d say so,” Peter sniffled and broke a small smile of his own as he felt Tony’s buried in his hair. “A thousand times better th – than a ‘good talk,’ I – I – I feel s – safer,” and he honestly did, enclosed in his biological father’s arms with a smile tucked away into his hair, nothing could touch him, not even the lingering tingle covering his back as the drugs wore off, or the memories of belt buckles dragging across wood floors.

 

Because, somehow, he knew his Dad would never let anyone like that near him again.

 

\----

 

May watched Tony’s hand moving slowly, up and down the back of Peter’s neck, never disrupting the bandaging in his hair or lowering too close to his back. It had been almost an entire hour since Doctor Marshall had stepped out to give them privacy, and the freshly realised son was still latched onto his father, his blush had crept away, and his watery eyes had dried, leaving him emotionally exhausted but coherent enough to keep up with the soft conversation Tony was leading.

 

“– nd that’s why I waited to tell you, I was… worried you’d react badly, and I’d lose you before we ever really – well, before I ever got the chance to show you how much you mean.” The hug wasn’t as desperate now, at least, not as desperate as it had been in the beginning. Now it was looser, more relaxed and domestic, almost as if Peter had merely slumped against Tony after a long day in the lab, or he was nodding off during a movie and the mechanic had let himself be used as a makeshift pillow for the teen.

 

“You have though,” Peter mumbled, tilting one side of his face up to watch as Tony flicked him a confused expression. “You showed me how much I meant almost every day, I – I don’t think you understand Ton… D – Da… uhm, T – Tony, you _saved_ me…” Peter’s face turned back into Tony’s neck and he sighed before speaking. “Y – you put the mic there… I – I don’t think you really get it, th – that saved my life. _You_ saved my life.” 

 

The boy’s fingers tightened minutely, and Tony knew he was about to say something that he found difficult to talk about, because he was searching for extra comfort. “I d – don’t think I would’ve… h – he said, wh – when you were getting something from your car, h – he said s – some stuff and I – I um, I – I don’t think I would have ever s – seen you again if you hadn’t come b – back for me.” Tony lifted his head and stilled the hand that had been rubbing at Peter’s neck.

 

“What? What do you mean – what did he say to you?” Peter twisted and squirmed in the bed until he was face to face with Tony, looking him in the eyes warily, trying as hard as he could to not listen to Carter’s voice in his head.

 

\----

 

The noise of keys jingling in the front door made Peter’s head snap up. From the sound of the single set of footsteps, Carter must have convinced Tony to just go straight home after lunch. He heard the click as the knob twisted and his door was pushed open, the hallway lights silhouetting the looming figure which walked towards him angrily.

 

“Stark shit, thinks he can control me, thinks he can tell me what to do when I’m the one in charge.” Carter whirled his chair around, ignoring his jolt of fright at the forceful movement. “He thinks you’re just the perfect little genius, _nerd_ , doesn’t he? Huh?” Both of the man’s hands clapped down on the arms of his desk chair, caging him in like a cornered animal as he absolutely dripped seething hate from his entire being. “So, he thinks _I_ should treat _you_ better?” Carter scoffed bitterly, and Peter looked away, his head drooping down to face the floor in shameful humiliation. “Stark thinks _you_ deserve anything better that what you’re getting now, it’s _pathetic_.”

 

Cold fingers gripped his jaw forcefully, tugging his chin up to face him dead-on, squeezing his cheeks until Peter felt hot tears gathering in his eyes at the pain. The touch stung, it wasn’t the roughest the man had ever gotten, but the harshness of it all still piled atop the weight that seemed to be doing nothing but crushing him. “You know what I think? You wanna know what _I_ feel like doing right now?” His lip trembled, and his head pounded worse than ever before, he missed Tony, he wanted Tony to be there with him, he needed to be held. “I feel like getting a beer, watching some T.V, waiting till Stark’s driven far enough away, then getting the belt back out and making sure he regret’s ever crossing me.”

 

Carter leaned in until Peter had fully pressed himself into the back of the chair, away from the man whose voice had dipped horribly low as his lips peeled into a slithering grin. His voice oozed acidic depravity, and the sickly, self-satisfied smirk hanging inches away from Peter made him believe that he was truly helpless. Carters mouth opened, and he purred contemptuously, “ _you think he’d regret it if the next time he visits, all he can find is your body_?”

 

\----

 

“Peter? What did he say to you before I got there? Kiddo I need you to talk to me,” Tony almost wanted to pull the boy back into his arms because the glassy look over his eyes was beginning to freak him out a bit. “Come on buddy, why wouldn’t you ever see me again? What did he say?” He reached out and gingerly rested a hand on the junction where Peter’s neck met his shoulder and squeezed lightly.

 

“S – sorry,” the teen seemed to shake it off, but his hand still unconsciously drifted up to hold onto Tony’s, which was still laying on his shoulder. “He just… yeah uh, j – just threatened me a – a little, h – he said something about… a – about you… f – finding my body.” Tony’s mouth closed, his teeth gritting together for what must have been the hundredth time.

 

“He threatened to _kill_ you?” Peter’s head nodded from where it was still nestled over his Dad’s shoulder. May ran a hand over her face and sighed wearily, Tony only wallowed in the silence for a short time before he broke it with a whisper. His face was steely, and Peter wholeheartedly believed what he said was the truth. “I would never have let him.”

 

\---- Two Days Later ----

 

“I’m sorry Sir, but we need a parent or guardian to sign the release forms, especially if you’re planning on transferring the patient to a separate facili –”

 

“Well it’s your lucky day then because I’ve got his legal guardian right here _and_ I happen to be his biological father, so you can either send those papers over to my legal team or you can slide them to me and I’ll just sign them right now and we’ll be out of your hair.” The woman squinted, looked at him from over her glasses, then swivelled to look over the counter at Peter, as if she were noting the similarities between the two.

 

The teen wasn’t paying attention to the receptionist that dealt with discharge, even as she slowly pushed the papers over for Tony to sign, he was currently focused on his own hand, which was enveloped by his Dad’s. Their fingers were intertwined, and it reminded him of the first time they had met, the night that he had willfully reached out and clutched the mechanic’s hand, tugging him down the hall to his bedroom. He didn’t know how his younger self had more confidence than his present self, he could never just reach out and hold Tony’s hand like he had as a kid. Peter didn’t know if it was more awareness of social normalities that came with age, or more understanding of the man’s slight aversion and hesitation towards physical contact ever since Afghanistan.

 

Regardless, he had been silent the entire walk from his room to the front desk of the hospital as he focused on the steadying hand that Tony kept wound around his.

 

It hadn’t been for no reason, of course, Peter only found the work calloused hand holding his own as he attempted to walk from his bed to the door and his legs wobbled dangerously. Tony had darted forward and gripped his good hand and upper arm, Peter looked up, eyes shining, and squeezed his fingers as if letting him know he appreciated the affection. Neither of them had let go yet, and the boy was smiling as he shuffled closer into his Dad’s side, his other hand lifted to lightly hold Tony’s elbow as he signed the papers quickly, slipping them to May so she could do the same. When they finished, and Tony had tucked the pen away into his pocket, he turned to look down at Peter.

 

His heart swelled when he saw the smile on his kid’s face, complimenting the pinkish tint that clouded his cheeks and nose too. The teen’s black eye had faded significantly over the past two days, the swelling was entirely gone, only green and purple smears still lingered. His shin was worse off, the shading was much darker and although the doctor had confirmed x-rays showed the bone wasn’t broken or damaged in any way, it had been bruised badly. Peter had reduced the total of six butterfly bandages to just two, which still held the deepest cuts together where his skin had split above his eyebrow and cheekbone. He had been weaned off the pain medication and although he winced more often and hissed in pain occasionally, he had admitted that leaving the confines of the hospital and being transferred to somewhere familiar would have made recovery easier. He had opted not to say that anytime a figure walked past the frosted glass door to his room, he flinched on instinct and it pulled at the stitches.

 

Doctor Marshall had decidedly waited to discuss Peter’s back until Tony and May stepped out of the room.

 

Where Carter had used the buckle, the wounds needed stitching up, but there wasn’t much that could be done to fix the harsh lines of welts and lashes that the man had left across the surface of Peter’s back. The times he was helped out of bed, so he could limp to the small bathroom attached to his room, he would gingerly move fabric out of the way to inspect the parts of his back which weren’t bandaged or stitched up. He never looked for much time, staring only made him more afraid that the marks would never go away. The flesh he could see was obviously the least severe, although he could still remember what everything had looked like when he had crawled to the bathroom that night.

 

_I don’t want to think about it_.

 

It was hard not to think, that incident, although isolated, had _terrified_ him to no end, burnt into his memory. The way he had barely fought back, how he had collapsed into a sobbing mess after the first lash, it made him feel weak, as if his mental courage was equivalent to his physical. His outward expression was at an all time low, Carter had pointed out countless times how scrawny he was, how skinny and how little muscle he had, but now he was right. Now, Peter’s bones jutted out and protruded, his hands would shake if he exerted almost any physical activity. The few times he had managed to clutch Tony’s arm and wander through the halls of the hospital when he grew too stir-crazy, doctors, nurses, visitors, cleaners and even other patients regarded him with pitying looks, as if he were admitted to the hospital because _he_ had made the decision to starve _himself_. They were only there for a night and two days, but every time someone looked at him like that he wanted to scream.

 

He wanted to tear away all the gauze and bandaging from his body and yell at anyone who stared at his too-defined jawline and cheekbones, his hands that trembled even as he wrapped them around Tony’s arm and leaned on him for support as they walked. _I didn’t do this to myself, Carter did. He was the one that hurt me, he was the one who starved me because I didn’t deserve food for being a brat. I never wanted this, I never asked for this, I’m not here because of choices I made, I’m here because he tried to kill me._

 

Tony knew that Peter wanted out, it had barely been seventy-two hours and he had grown restless, he was continuously twisting his hands together and gnawing at the inside of his cheek. He watched the boy’s eyes, they tracked everyone and everything that made movement, he stiffened and flinched at almost everything that moved without warning, loud noises made him inhale sharply and brace himself as if he were waiting for a blow that never came.

 

Sure, the doctor hadn’t seemed overly worried about the boy’s weight, even though he had lost almost all the muscle his body had ever possessed, and looked halfway to skeletal, but he had made sure the teen was aware he needed to put all the weight back on. Tony would be making sure of that, he promised himself to ensure that Peter knew he could have food any time he wanted, and there would be absolutely no punishments for eating.

 

“Hey kiddo?” Tony winced when he saw Peter jolt from the corner of his eye. “Sorry,” he said sincerely, dropping his voice and turning so he was actually facing the teen, “you about ready to blow this joint?” The boy took a moment, then he smiled and nodded wordlessly, his fingers tightening as he leaned further into Tony’s side.

 

“Y – yeah, I’d like that,” he confirmed while his smile broadened as the hand he held squeezed back reassuringly.

 

“We’ll stop for food, I could go for some burgers right about now, you up for that?” The doors slid open for them and he felt Peter’s small form shudder as the wind hit them, he was beyond grateful May had thought to pick up some clothes from home, because he was able to slow and flip the hood on the kid’s sweatshirt up.

 

“This is me,” the two turned to see May gesturing to her car, keys in hand.

 

“You’re heading back to the apartment?” Tony asked, still aware of the hand tucked away in his own.

 

“Yeah, work called, and I really think it would be a good idea for you two to spend some time together, maybe a few days at the tower.” She smiled warmly at Peter, “I can stop by anytime you guys want, the tower isn’t out of the way, I drive past it on my way home each night.” She kissed the top of Peter’s head and waved as she turned and walked for her car, Tony rubbed the boy’s shoulder with his free hand.

 

“You okay with staying at the tower for a bit?” Peter turned to look up at him as they started walking again, he smiled as warmly as May had.

 

“Yeah – yeah, I’d really like that.”

 

\----

 

Tony threw his balled-up burger wrapper, it hit the lip of the bin and bounced back off, rolling along the floor until it stopped about a foot away from the original target. Peter laughed from beside him, he’s overexaggerating the humour of the situation but Tony overlooks it when the boy’s forehead bumped against his shoulder as he hunched over and giggled amusedly.

 

“I – I – Iron Man sucks at basketball,” he managed to get out through the laughter. There was a flush across his face, but unlike many other occasions it’s not because he was shy, but because he was doubled over and laughing heavily.

 

“Oh yeah _ha ha_ , so hilarious Peter. Let’s see what you got, huh?” There was no bite in his response, he was grinning now too, especially when Peter leaned into his chest completely as he slumped from the exertion of giggling. “Big words for someone with appalling depth perception,” he draped an arm over the teen’s shoulders and bent his face down so his nose touched the nape of Peter’s neck.

 

Tony felt as the boy melted under the affectionate gesture before his arms reached up to curl around his neck softly. “That was at least half a point for effort, right?” He murmured into Peter’s curls, his chin slipped down to allow his forehead to rest where his nose had just been.

 

“I don’t think that’s how basketball works,” the teen whispered back. They were both quiet for a short moment before Peter broke it, the humour had drained from his voice slightly and although he was seemingly trying to pass it off as a joke, his tone was bordering on dismal when he quietly continues, “but then again, what do I know about sports?”

 

‘ _He’s pretty scrawny, unathletic, doesn’t play any sport, it was really only a matter of time till he would start to get picked on, especially as a kid like him_.’

 

Tony exhaled out his nose at the memory of Carter’s derogatory words, he let himself wind a free arm around Peter’s middle and pulled him closer. “You don’t need to know anything about something you don’t find interesting, you know more than enough about science. In fact, you probably know more than everyone else at your school put together, when it comes to academics.” He tilted his head up and Peter tucked his chin over his shoulder almost immediately.

 

Peter was the one who broke the silence again.

 

“Tony?” He hummed in response, casually carding his fingers though Peter’s hair. “C – can I… um, I mean, d – do I call you… y’know, do I call you Dad now?” His voice wavered, and it was clear how hesitant he was to ask, but Tony didn’t mind in the slightest, he merely hid his smile and answered warmly.

 

“You can do whatever you want to, your choice.” He felt the teen pressing closer and the small hands that had been wrapped around his neck squeezed tighter as Peter spoke softly.

 

“Okay Dad,” he felt the little smile that was being hidden away in his neck, but it didn’t stop the surge of fluttery stutters that his heart made when he heard the word. His stomach coiled, but not the same way it did when he saw Peter passed out and bloody at his desk, instead, it coiled and burst all at once into something he couldn’t even begin to describe.

 

He felt like from the first moment he had stepped into the kitchen all those years ago, the tiny child whose feet didn’t touch the ground from where he sat on a chair and from the moment that little kid’s head turned and flashed those massive hazel irises, to now, all his relationship with Peter had been building up to had been this. This moment, right here, right now, as the cold little nose burrowed deeper into his neck and the soft lips brushed his collarbone as they uttered that word.

 

_Dad._

 

“No problem kiddo.” His voice sounded slightly more strained then he intended it to be, but he had just been called Dad for the first time in his life, so he gave himself a free pass. “You’ll tell me if you’re still hungry, right?” The miniature nod he felt was answer enough, and he couldn’t be bothered moving to force the kid, his kid, into bed. “Welcome to the world of having a poorly functioning adult as your role model,” he joked as he reached out to pluck a throw from the other side of the couch.

 

The blanket was thick but incredibly soft and he unfolded it with one arm, so he could keep his other draped over Peter. The teen made a pleased noise in his throat as Tony tucked the edge of the blanket over them both and wedged it under the boy’s chin. “Night kiddie,” Peter mumbled a sleepy reply and Tony stayed silent for at least another ten minutes before he decided to tack onto his goodnight.

 

“I’m proud of you and I’m glad I make shitty decisions at press events,” he sighed and ran a gentle hand through Peter’s curls. “I’m happy you’re my kid,” he whispered softly after he was certain the boy’s breaths were evened out in sleep.

 

\----

 

Peter’s recovery had been better than Tony expected. The boy clung more, sought out physical affection on the regular, especially after long days or bad ones. He still hadn’t gotten used to being called Dad, although he wasn’t complaining about the utopian butterflies that flipped his stomach each time he heard it.

 

He had good days and bad days, Tony had also noticed an increase in how hard the boy was on himself. He found it difficult to directly ask for something, he needed permission before doing anything, including using the bathroom, getting a glass of water, turning on the T.V. It hurt to know that somehow Carter had gotten the habit, of asking permission before almost everything, so drilled into Peter.

 

He didn’t ask about any of what happened often, but there were a few incidences that made him. Peter was terrified when they walked past alleyways, he always reached out and gripped Tony’s arm until it almost hurt.

 

“Why do you have to hold me when we walk past alleyways kid?” He always held back and made a conscious effort to steer clear of them when he could.

 

“M’ just scared of you leaving me in one, sorry.” Tony had assured him it was fine, he would never leave Peter alone in a random alley, but he did softly ask why he was so afraid. “I just… h – he left me in one when he got the food. When he came back, um, all – all those guys were yelling things at me and… h – he just watched and waited till they left on their own.”

 

Needless to say, Tony began to hold Peter even tighter when they happened to walk past alleyways from then on.

 

Peter only had one major incident, and Tony had handled it before the boy dissolved into a panic attack.

 

He was required to make an appearance at a press event, him and Peter had been in the lab all day and the teen gladly trailed along beside him, their sleeves brushing every few steps, up to his room with all his suits.

 

“Okay, I’m changing in here,” he knocked the doorframe of his walk-in closet, “you sit on the bed and help me decide what tie I’m wearing.” Peter nodded and flopped onto the mattress, twirling a strand of fluff from a pillow around his finger. “I’ll drop you back at the apartment before I leave, and we’ll stop for take-out on the way too.”

 

“You don’t have to, I have a subway card and –”

 

“You’re not walking on the streets in the dark when I’m perfectly willing, and actually want to, drop you off myself, with Thai.” Tony opened the closet door and threw a pile of clothes on the floor by the bed, his lab outfit, stained with grease and holes from welding, while he wore a dress shirt and pants, one cufflink in his mouth as he did up the other. “You mind chucking those into the laundry basket by the door kiddo?”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Peter picked up the pile and stepped towards the bathroom door, but as he walked past Tony halted him with his hand.

 

“Hold up, nearly forgot…” he dug through the pile in Peter’s arms, “yeah, this guy doesn’t wash.”

 

The belt snaked out of Peter’s arms as Tony draped it over his own as he did up the final cufflink. “Sweet, thanks squirt.”

 

Peter didn’t move for the bathroom, and the mechanic looked up curiously. “You good buddy?” The boy blinked twice and took half a step back, his eyes wide and expressive as they stared straight ahead at Tony’s arms. “Seriously, you okay?”

 

“Sorry,” Peter said almost silently, taking another step back. Tony wrinkled his nose in confusion, “sorry, I’m sorry,” the teen repeated quietly. “I can w – walk… don’t buy me food o – or waste gas,” his eyes were still firmly locked on Tony’s arms, and he looked down to follow the gaze.

 

“Shit,” he cursed, dropping the belt and toeing it under the bed. “No, nope, it’s all good Pete,” the boy flinched when the buckle hit the floor, and Tony felt mildly sick. “C’mere, c’mon,” Tony opened his arms in invitation but didn’t force the contact, leaving Peter to decide whether he wanted to close the gap for the hug or keep away.

 

He was almost bowled over by the force at which Peter threw himself into his arms, but the bed hit the back of his knees as he stumbled, and he managed to sit them both down on the edge of the mattress. “Hey bud, I’m sorry about that, my fault,” he shifted Peter’s arms, so they were secured around the base of his neck before tugging him further onto the bed and letting all of his weight relax against his side.

 

“No, it – that was me, I knew you wouldn’t… I know you’d never do that, ‘cus I trust you, but it’s still… still fresh, y’know?” Peter was only beginning to get over the belt, although the anxiety over the scarring had disappeared along with the last of the faint, pinkish lines over his back.

 

“Yeah, I know, I’m proud of you. You’re a brave kid,” Peter smiled and rested his head on Tony’s shoulder. “Now, blue or green,” he held up two ties and the teen didn’t hesitate to reach up and tug at the blue one.

 

“I like blue, it’s nice, or red like the Iron Man suit.” 

 

_I don’t like green, not after knowing first-hand how much evil sage green eyes can hide._

 

“Blue and red, seriously kid who are you, Captain America?” Peter laughed, and Tony smiled as he felt the gleeful vibrations of his chest moving against his own shoulder.

 

“Come on, I’d make such a better superhero than Cap.”

 

“You’d probably be a gimmicky hero, you’d have your own catchphrase and everything.” He rubbed Peter’s head and used one hand to drape the blue tie around the collar of his dress shirt, letting the green one fall under the bed beside the belt.

 

He would have laughed at the symbolism of it, but he had a teen to feed.

 

\---- Four Months Later ----

 

“Hey Dad, y’know how you got me those adoption papers for my birthday?” He could hear the whirring of DUM-E in the background of the phone call and smiled when he pictured his Dad rummaging around the workshop, waiting for him to finish school.

 

“Well fifteen’s a big year, ‘course I remember, why?” Peter chewed the end of his pen and unfolded the letter.

 

“May was working late last night and I forgot to get her to sign this permission slip for that field trip I was telling you about –” Tony groaned loudly overtop of him and he laughed before shushing him. “And I figured now that you’re _legally_ my Dad and everything… maybe you could drop by and sign it for me?”

 

“Oh, you little shit, wipe that smile off your face,” Tony said, a grin plastered across his face as he began to shove aside the things he was working on and walk to the car. “You’re just trying to get me to sign that permission slip to taunt me, and here I was thinking we agreed not to use our brains for evil.” His smile didn’t fade as he got into the car and started the engine.

 

“Hey, I never promised that, you did, and come on, just because I’m touring Oscorp doesn’t mean I’m gonna hold it over you.” Peter smiled too, listening to Tony’s hands drumming on the car wheel as he drove. “You want me to meet you in the parking lot or –”

 

“Nope, you remember what I said that one time, when we went out to lunch?” Peter groaned, mimicking Tony’s, “yeah, get ready for this kiddo, I’d say it’s a fair trade – the devious betrayal of my only son touring Oscorp Industries in exchange for some parental embarrassment. Meet you at front reception, see ya soon!” The line clicked off and Peter shook his head with a smile as he packed up his books and walked out of the library with a skip in his step as he made his way over to reception with the permission slip.

 

Sure, Oscorp was cool, they were working on some interesting stuff over there, but his Dad was literally Tony Stark, so Peter wasn’t overly-fussed about the whole thing, he was just exited to have a reason to get a _parent’s_ signature instead of a guardian’s for the first time in a long time.

 

\----

 

“Oh, for fu –”

 

“Language kiddie,” Tony said from within the suit as he walked into the front office, smirking as the receptionist dropped a paper cup of water on the floor in shock. The suit receded as he walked over to where Peter was leant against a wall, rolling his eyes at the flashy entrance. “How’s life Pete?”

 

“Been better, but you’re here now,” Tony smiled fondly and ruffled his hair as he continued, “so now it’s definitely worse.”

 

“You got my sarcasm and I love it,” he said as Peter slid the permission slip onto the desk and the receptionist handed Tony a pen with a slightly confused but mostly awe-struck expression on her face. “This makes me feel like I’m renting you out to some shitty science knock-off,” he complained as he jotted a signature at the bottom of the page and scrawled the date, letting the receptionist file it away as he also signed Peter out.

 

“Why, because Oscorp is a knockoff Stark Industries?” Tony smiled and nudged Peter’s arm before draping his own arm over the boy’s shoulder, guiding him to the car. “You drove all the way here and then put the suit on just to look cool when you walked in?”

 

“Of course I did, I’m Tony Stark.” Peter laughed and clambered into the front seat before proceeding to chatter excitedly about what they would be doing in the lab when they got home.

 

\---- One Month Later ----

 

Peter smiled sheepishly.

 

Tony was sat on his bed, a red and blue suit sitting beside him as he looked to Peter for answers.

 

“So, uh… I guess you were right when you said I’d be a gimmicky superhero?” Tony raised an eyebrow at him and folded his arms.

 

“Gimmicky is one thing, _Spider-Man_ and spandex is another. I’d love an explanation from the beginning, _now_.” Peter’s sheepish grin fell into a more serious one, but he could tell despite the firm protectiveness being expressed as discipline, his Dad was proud of what Spider-Man stood for.

 

“Yep, the beginning, I can do that… you know that Oscorp field trip I went on a month ago?” Tony grunted an affirmative unhappily, “yeah so… turns out you were right about that one too…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spider-Baby and protective Iron Dad yes!
> 
> <3 <3 <3
> 
> I got Tumblr not so long ago ~ It's agib_2002 ~
> 
> I post on there - it's all Marvel (especially irondad)
> 
> A few people have commented and mentioned that they've read more than just one of my fics and enjoyed them, so, if anybody wants to, I'd be really happy writing asks and getting prompts or suggestions for new fic to write if you leave them on Tumblr.
> 
> So... yeah, leave an ask/suggestion if you want me to write it (or even just ask any questions you're curious about me or my writing or anything really).
> 
> I'd honestly be happy talking about anything if anyone messaged me, so feel free to hit the asks/submissions/messages if you wanted to say anything at all.
> 
> <3


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